Blood and Bone
by vampirefan1989
Summary: Ana thinks she has landed her ideal job as an assistant to the eccentric & mysterious Mr Grey. But is he more than what he seems? When peculiar things start to happen around the office while being around her boss, Ana is forced to wonder what Mr Grey's deal is. When she discovers what he is hiding, what does it mean for her, past & future? AU. PossessiveGrey/soulmates
1. Chapter 1

Fifty Shades belongs to EL James. I'm just playing with the characters and putting a new spin on them. I had a new idea come to me, I am not sure if it has been done before. Would love to know your thoughts on whether I should continue it. Sorry if its not very good. I'm not confident with my writing at all.

 _ **Blood and Bone**_

When I wake up, I roll onto my side, checking the time on my alarm clock. The illuminated red blinking numbers tell me that it is already ten thirty. Shit. I must have overslept and not heard the alarm go off the first time.

In a panic, I get up, throwing the blankets off me while I race around the room, gathering a clean pair of underwear and a bra, as well as the clothes I had ironed the night before in advance to prepare. I yank off both old socks, jam them into the laundry hamper, then run into the bathroom to take a quick, cleansing shower to both clean myself and wake myself up.

Today I have an interview for a job I applied for last week. I am supposed to be sitting the interview in a mere two hours time.

It's as an Office Assistant position for one of the most expansive companies in Seattle, Grey Holdings Enterprises.

The job position requirements were up-to-date knowledge of computer software and email, experience with working in an office role, and someone that is an organised team player, able to meet deadlines with a professional, friendly nature- all criteria that I feel I am capable of. I haven't had a job in an office secretarial position before, but I know it is a role I would do well in.

I received the confirmation letter just the Friday before that I have been one of three candidates selected for a job interview, so I am hoping it goes well today.

My head still feels a bit heavy and achy from the late night I have had last night. Once I'm finished in the shower and I feel a bit more sober, I turn it off and step out onto the towels I laid out on the tiled floor. The bathroom mirror is fogged up so I scrub at it furiously with my hand until I am able to see my reflection.

I stand, naked and shivering, my dark hair damp and dripping wet before the mirror.

I look different than I did yesterday, I feel. I seem paler than I had yesterday with dark circles under my eyes. I have always normally had alabaster skin, but usually I haven't noticed such prominent circles beneath my eyes. I press my thumbs around the creases of them, trying to rid the purple color and work some circulation into them by friction. I'm not very successful.

Last night comes back to me slowly in fragments of distorted memories. Heading with Kate to a club that was packed and busy, the music loud. Drinking three shots of hard tequila, then moving onto whiskey and coke.

Self-consciously, I cup my hand over my mouth, then exhale out against my palm, sniffing the odor of my breath through my nostrils. Somehow, I still manage to smell like a drunken sailor despite showering.

Against all better judgment, I had went with my roommate Kate for a social night out, drinking. I got a little messed up, and my head is throbbing from the after-affects of the hangover. Definitely not a smart thing to do when you have such an important thing happening, like today with a job interview. How can I possibly focus on putting my best foot forward if I'm hungover?

I grab my towel off the rack, wiping the water off my skin, drying myself. That's when I spot it while bending down. I hadn't even noticed it when I woke up. On my ankle, there is a bandage wrapped around it. It's damp now obviously due to the shower water, but I hadn't even noticed it. Weird. I must be more hungover than I initially thought.

Using my fingernails, I find the opening to the bandage. I start peeling it off, then I inspect the wound curiously, turning my shin around.

Dried blood is caked around what looks like a scratch. No memories come to me of how I obtained it. Then again, I am known to be clumsy, especially when drunk. Maybe I tripped? Wouldn't surprise me. I find my clean underwear, then shuffle into them before closing the toilet lid and plopping down on it, lifting my leg up again for closer inspection. Maybe its the light in the bathroom, but around my ankle, it appears to be swollen and inflamed. The veins usually on someone's leg, they seems more noticeable and brighter against my complexion than usual.

Did something happen last night? Did I get hurt? It's a mystery at this point.

But I decide not to dwell on it. I have to focus on looking presentable. Today is most possibly the most important day of my life.

* * *

Dressed in a knee-length black skirt, white blouse, and stockings, I make my way to the waiting area that the woman behind the desk directs me to.

The building of Grey House is larger than I had anticipated on, at over fifteen floors and counting. I'm to be interviewed by the company's CEO, Christian Grey. I'm assuming he's a guy in his late forties or early fifties with control freak tendencies.

I sit into the comfy chair, fighting the urge to scratch my ankle. I'm fifteen minutes early as it turns out, fortunately. I read somewhere that it makes a good impression- being both punctual and early for an interview. It shows a keenness and enthusiasm to work apparently. My head is still thrumming though; a dull ache that originates from my temples, down through my ears and my jaw.

.I have never felt so terrible before. Kate and I really must have drank like champions last night, though that does not explain why the mysterious scratch on my ankle is now stinging and just screaming for me to scratch it with my fingernails to provide myself a certain sense of relief.

Gripping my resume in one hand, I look at the woman behind her desk, making sure she won't catch me. Yeah, coast is clear. I bend down, my eyes remaining on the crown of the woman's skull, before I start scratching with my long fingernails through the sheer fabric of my stockings at the scratch. _Ah, there we go_. The relief is instantaneous. I wouldn't be surprised if my eyes roll back into my head.

"Excuse me, Miss Steele?"

I stop scratching immediately, startled by a woman's voice. It's the woman behind the counter. She's smiling at me.

"Yes?" I stand, clutching onto my resume while resting my other hand on top of it.

"Mr Grey will see you now for the interview. He's just in his office." She gestures towards the door with her hand.

"Thank you." I smile at her thankfully.

"Your welcome." My ankle starts throbbing again, dying to be itched as I walk towards his office. It's probably my fault. My stockings are probably rubbing against it, irritating it. I glance down at the back of my fingers that I used to scratch it curiously once I knock on Mr Grey's office door.

The tips of my fingernails are lined with redness. I think its blood from scratching the skin on my ankle so hard.

I gasp in horror, bringing the tips of my nails up to my mouth to suck them hastily. There is no way that I am greeting this guy with blood on my fingernails.

"You don't need to knock," the woman at the desk says over the thrumming in my ears, "You can just go straight in."

Distracted, I flex my fingers over the brass doorknob, pushing my way inside. I'm not sure how it happens. Maybe I'm so flustered from the blood on my fingers that I don't notice the doorjamb and it gets in the way, but before I know it, I'm falling to my knees on the carpet in his office. Oh, God. I close my eyes tight for a moment, wishing this were all such a terrible dream. This is a nightmare and any second now, I'll wake up. Only he makes sure I know it isn't a dream.

"Anastasia Steele, I presume?" I glance up, and a pale, long-fingered hand is in front of me, waiting for me to take it. The veins on the thin skin of his palm are very prominent. I don't know why I notice it, but I do. "I'm Christian Grey. I'm here to interview you for the job position. Are you all right?"

Gathering my wits, I reach out, accepting his hand. Cold. His skin is strangely cold in comparison to mine. He helps me up and when I glance down, I realize my resume is far away from me, having drifted to the floor from me falling over.

"Oh, thank you," I manage, once I find my voice. "What a disaster, falling into your office when I'm here to be interviewed by you. I'm sure I've made such a good impression already." Sarcasm is the only way I can find to diffuse the embarrassment of the situation as I pick up my resume. "Here is my current up-to-date resume, Sir. I'm assuming you'll need it?" I finally glance up at his face while he takes my resume from me.

"Yes, thank you. I never had the chance to properly look yours over on the application."

Just like that, all my former preconceptions about the man interviewing me is squashed. He isn't middle-aged; He's about in his late twenties or early thirties or so. He's about six feet tall. He's young and incredibly good-looking in the three piece suit he is wearing. The black trousers and black jacket seem to cling to him perfectly. But there is something about his eyes, especially, that are inexplicably captivating to look at; they are a deep, clear grey, framed by thick, dark eyelashes. His hair is tousled.

"Please. Take a seat," he says, a hint of a smile on his lips as he waves me towards a white chair in the center of the room.

His office is big. Too big, for one man, in fact. His taste in decorations is eclectic yet artful; There's tapestry hanging on the wall on one corner of the room. On another wall, he has a framed painting that looks like a colorful swirl of different shades of reds. There are a few old-looking red glass vases around the room on the floor. He's obviously a fan of the color red. I'm surprised his desk isn't painted red; It's dark mahogany, kept neat and organised.

The view outside his office window is beautiful, though. Seattle opens up before me as I sit into the plush seat. I bring my eyes back to him as he sits in the chair behind his desk, placing my resume in front of him. I feel the horrible urge to itch my ankle again.

"Did it take you long to find the office?" Mr Grey asks without lifting his gaze from my resume that he is reading. I notice he licks the tip if his thumb before turning the page of my resume. He has very gorgeous lips- a strange observation to make perhaps, but true.

"Sort of," I admit. "I got lost, because the building is so big but... luckily a very nice man explained to me which floor you were on and where the elevators were."

He nods once, his expression absorbed and concentrated with reading my resume. I am uncertain whether to begin talking or not. The silence is nerve-wracking.

"Are you aware that your bleeding?" he asks unexpectedly, and as he brings his eyes up to meet mine, I see that the pupils have dilated, overriding the grey of his irises. But I'm bleeding? What?

"I'm sorry?" I mutter slowly. I have no idea what he is talking about.

"Your ankle. It's bleeding and your stockings are torn."

Oh my goodness. I feel heat spread across my cheeks as I glance down at my ankles anxiously. I turn my heels to the side, looking. Shit. Surely enough, Mr Grey is right. There is a big hole split in my stockings now where I scratched through it to get at the itch. I mustn't have noticed how hard I was scratching it. The scratch mark is covered in wet, fresh blood. It's oozed down through the stocking. How did he even notice? How unnerving.

"Oh," I get out. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't realize that-"

"-Not to worry," Mr Grey says, rather warmly. He stands from his chair, disappearing to the side of his office for a second. Once he turns around, I see that he is holding a First Aid Kit. "We can fix that up for you quite easily."

Wow. He actually cares that much? "Oh, please, Sir. You don't have to-"

"-Well, I insist," he says firmly.

He comes to stand in front of me, crouching down while searching through the kit. He finds a bandage, then he grabs my ankle, lifting it and resting the heel of my shoe on his kneecap. His kindness and compassion and insistence to treat me- it's so unexpected. Honestly, I didn't think bosses gave a crap about anyone else but themselves. Christian Grey, he is obviously different.

"Keep still for a second," Mr Grey says in a low command, and I watch as he leans closer, inspecting my scratch and all the blood. He seems so fascinated, so... engrossed in the wound. It makes me feel crazily flustered. The tip of his thumb touches the center of the wound and I hiss at the sharp stinging sensation it presents. He lifts his gaze to look up at me apologetically. "How did this happen?" he asks curiously, and he grabs the compression bandage. He starts wrapping it slowly around the torn material of my stocking, as well as the bloody scratch.

"That's a very good question," I say. "I'm not completely sure what happened myself. I think I over-scratched it and took the skin off with my fingernails. That probably explains the-" My words falter at the look on his face.

His eyes are clenched closed as he holds his thumb in mid-air towards his nose. My eyes fall down to his neck as I hear him swallow thickly. A tendon in his neck twitches, the veins sticking out. His jaw muscles contract. Like a gunshot rippling through the air, he stands abruptly, moving away from me, his gait hunched, footsteps slow and fatigued. He keeps his face hidden from me. His reaction is baffling. What is going on with him?

"Um, sir. Are you all right?" I ask in concern, staring at a spot on his back. "I tend to get a little queasy at the sight of blood myself, so you aren't the only one."

I hear him start breathing in ragged, deep exhales. His shoulders are tense. "When can you start?"

"What? When can I start?" I repeat slowly, a burst of hope spreading through me. "I can start anytime you like."

"-Then congratulations, Miss Steele." His voice is low, guttural. "You are now my new assistant."

He's hiring me? But he hasn't even asked me the standard questions yet; Like why I want the job position in the first place and my previous employment history. I've been to a few job interviews before and, usually, that is standard procedure when it comes to these things.

"But you haven't even asked me anything yet?" I whisper, surprised. "Don't you want to go through my resume with me and discuss my qualifications?"

"I have everything I need to know." The words are abrupt and I don't even need to be able to look at his face to see what he wants; He is dismissing me, and he wants me out of his office. "You start on next Monday. When you leave the office, go straight to Andrea behind the desk. She will tell you everything you need to know on what to expect on your first day here at my company and what to wear. If you have any questions, you should ask it of her."

 _What do you think? :) Interesting? Is it something you would like more of? I plan to update chapter every third day or so when I have the time available to me. This won't be like Twilight, I assure you. It will be darker and for more mature adults- blood, lemons, mystery. But hopefully you will enjoy it._


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you! Hope you enjoy!

* * *

 **Chapter 2**

My head is pounding lethally once the elevator reaches the first floor.

I head out through the rotating doors, feeling as if I'm in a state of shock. I realize that, after that high intensity moment of anxiety in Mr Grey's office, that I feel parched and dehydrated. I never thought of bringing a bottle of water with me in the car, so I know I am reduced to waiting until I get back home to the apartment I share with my best friend and roommate Kate until I can get some to quench my thirst.

I breathe in deeply the cleansing, mid-morning air as I walk towards where I parked my car. I check my wrist watch. I cannot believe it; I had only been up there for the interview for barely twenty five minutes, at the most. I think its probably the shortest job interview I have ever had, and I've had quite a few over the months while trying to gain employment.

Christian Grey. There was something about him, though I can't figure out what it was. His reaction to me was so different, so... unusual. Maybe it's just all in my head, though? Maybe I am reading too much into it? I just cannot believe that the man was so quick to hire me. He didn't even ask me any basic questions to judge my suitability.

I suppose I should be happy though for the opportunity he has given me.

The past couple of months have been incredibly hard, for both Kate and myself. We have both been looking for full-time jobs to get a steady income. Kate has had no luck so far, but luckily for her, she has her parents to fall back on for support. If she needs money in order to pay the rent, her folks are just a mere phone call away, always eager to help.

Lately, for the past week, Kate and I have been living off noodles. They are cheap and hardy to fill you up, but you need an entire variety of foods to feel good. I think that is the main reason Kate has been feeling so ill; She has the flu currently, and its been going on for three weeks. It's a stubborn cold, though she is determined not to let a cold stop her from heading out to relax like we had last night.

We live in a building of duplex apartments in Seattle. It was the cheapest place we could find. I park in our assigned parking spot, and get out, carrying the book the receptionist Andrea gave me for me to read on the company's policy on harassment, bullying, and the code of conduct- something that is apparently given to all new employees. There was something in it that I had to sign while in the building before I left. Andrea seemed really nice and I can tell we will be getting along perfectly. Already, I can tell she is going to become a close friend. With some people, you can just automatically tell.

I brace myself for the storm of questions that I know I am bound to get from Kate once I so much as walk through the door to our apartment. I just hope she will be merciful and let me get a glass of water first.

"Wow. You're back already?" I find Kate sitting on the couch, huddled under a blanket. The couch has been like her second home lately. She's been immersing herself in watching Game of Thrones seasons back to back right now. According to her, it helps her get over her flu-like symptoms. "That didn't take long? How was it?"

"Hold on a sec," I plead to her. "Just give me a second to get some water, please. Remind me never to agree to go out drinking with you ever again. My head is killing me."

She sticks out her tongue at me, "Oh, please. You loved it last night."

I fill up a long glass with water in our small kitchen, then join her on the couch. Poor thing. She looks so pale and her nose is red.

"The interview barely went for over twenty five minutes at the most," I say to her. "It was extremely short. It's why I'm back so early."

"Wow." She eyes me with interest. "So any feelings on whether you got the job or not?"

I feel the corners of my mouth twitch after gulping down the entire glass of water. I shift back into the comfortable fluffy cushions on our couch, watching the flat-screen TV. There is a big, bloody battle happening. "Yeah, I got the job, Kate. Before I left, he actually asked me when I could start and then said I'm his new assistant." I show her the book. "Now I just need to read this. It explains the companies policy on harassment and bullying- that sort of basic, commonsense stuff."

I think Kate's even more excited by the news than I am. Her arms flail around as she gives out a croaking squeal. "That's great but... why aren't you more excited?"

"The interview was really strange. Christian Grey, he's... strange." Strange is the only suitable word I can seem to come up with.

"Strange? How?"

"I don't know." I shake my head, at a loss to explain. "It's just that he never asked me the usual questions you get for a job interview. He just immediately gave me the job."

"Well, I'm envious," Kate grumbles, folding her arms. "I wish it was always that easy to get a job. You must have all the luck."

"There was just something about Christian Grey, though. He seems... different."

"But he _is_ different. I'm sure most rich people seem different to us blue collar folk."

I laugh at her words, turning the glass round and round with my fingers. "But that isn't exactly what I mean, Kate."

She stares at me in confusion. "Then how do you mean it?"

"He just made me feel... different. Like I just get this instinctual feeling that he isn't like... any regular male."

"Oh, really? So he's different, huh?" She wiggles her eyebrows at me, giving me a funny look. She's misconstruing my words. "Wow, Ana Steele. Finally hung up on a guy who happens to now be her new boss. Do you think you'll have a hot, secret office affair?"

"Kate," I say to her flatly in warning. "You _know_ that wasn't what I meant."

"Well, anyway. Your hot new boss has garnered quite the reputation." Now Kate has gotten me interested. I don't understand what she means at all.

"Elaborate," I murmur.

"He's made the tabloids quite a few times. Seems like everyone wants to get into this guy's personal life."

"So?"

"So, he's known for being quite the philanderer. There have been rumors that he is a total womanizer. He'll be seen with one girl only once, then he'll be seen with another. Apparently he has a very active nightlife."

"So what? He's been seen with a few different women? That doesn't mean anything, Kate."

So Christian Grey has a reputation of being a womanizer? That surprises me, because he hadn't given off that vibe today during the interview, unless he keeps his dating and work lives completely separate. Sure, he was very handsome in a... strange way. He affected me in a way no man has ever before, but I am not so sure if that is necessarily a good thing. He just seemed... different. Odd. And what was with him knowing I was bleeding, and then offering to fix up my ankle? His reaction comes to mind. He had looked so... suppressed, so strained, as if he was holding back. Not to mention it was as though he could not stand being near me, as if he wanted me to haul ass right out of his office. What was all of that about?

But I figure I'll have plenty of opportunity to suss this man out. I'm going to be working for him now, after all.

* * *

That Monday, I seem to settle in okay into my new job. But that is partly because I have such a friendly, helpful person around me, like Andrea, to explain how it all works.

If it had been anyone else showing me, I think I would have felt too apprehensive to ask questions or to make mistakes in front of them, but Andrea is giving me huge moral support. She will just laugh any mistakes off and explain to me where I went wrong. She's extremely forgiving and doesn't act like I am an inconvenience to her when I have to interrupt her while she's managing visitors.

Andrea is blond and immaculate, dressed in a white dress suit with a skirt. At first, I was daunted, because she looks like a model with long legs that seem to go on forever and a flawless complexion, but as it turns out, she's super nice. I really shouldn't judge a book by its cover, as they say.

She shows me the correct way to correspond to emails and how there is a very organised structural system that they have at Grey House to store copies of them into the database.

She shows me how to update the client list, mailing lists, and the internal staff contact list. She demonstrates how to answer the phone and explains the importance of smiling while doing it. Then she shows me that the filing system is done alphabetically and lets me test it out for myself by putting in some new records that have recently came in. It seems easy enough, though I feel overwhelmed at times. All in all, it's been a busy, productive morning.

So far, I haven't seen Christian Grey _not even once_ since I started at eight thirty this morning. It is now twelve thirty.

I swing around in my rotating chair, glancing towards his office curiously. He has a large window so that you can see straight inside, but that's only if the white blinds aren't closed. Of course, today, they _are_ closed. Doesn't he have to work mornings like all the rest?

"Mr Grey likes to keep to himself most of the morning," Andrea explains quietly. She must have caught me looking. "It's only after lunchtime that he becomes a little more... active. He's not much of a morning person."

She glances towards a woman that has just stepped out of the elevator onto the floor, planting a smile on her lips; A young woman that appears only to be in the start of her twenties at the most. In fact, she seems so much younger than me.

She has long dark brown wavy hair that falls below her slender shoulders. The jeans and white T-shirt she is wearing looks baggy and over sized on her. She is very skinny- extremely so- and oddly anemic-looking; Her blue eyes look too big and wide for her face. I can't help wondering if the young woman is suffering from an eating disorder- judgmental, I know.

"Good afternoon, Miss Williams," Andrea greets her, her voice immediately changing from the one she used with me. It's more sweeter and calmer. She must know this young woman, judging by her voice. "How are you feeling today, Leila?"

The young woman, Leila, meets my gaze before shifting her eyes back to Andrea hastily. "I'm fine, thank you. I'm ready."

Andrea jerks her chin towards Mr Grey's closed office door. "He's just in there, waiting for his lunch with you no doubt. Please, if you could just give me a moment and I'll let him know that you have arrived."

Andrea stands, strolling towards Mr Grey's door. She knocks twice, then opens it slightly. It seems dark in his office and as though he has the drapes pull down over the main window. It looks all shadowy in there when I peer past Andrea to look through the gap she has left ajar. I never realized how nosy I was until now.

"Excellent. Just in time," I hear Mr Grey say softly. "Please, bring her in."

"Yes, Sir." Andrea turns towards the young woman. Leila. "He's ready to see you now."

Leila walks towards the door, glancing back at Andrea uncertainly before heading in. Then Andrea closes the door quickly like she's afraid something will slip out of the room, before returning to me. She doesn't say anything about the woman at all; She just sits back down into her chair, corrects her computer monitor so that she can see better, and goes on with what she is doing as if there was no interruption. Maybe this sort of thing happens a lot?

I cannot help myself. I just need to know. "Is that young woman Mr Grey's girlfriend?" I ask curiously.

Andrea gives out a short laugh as she looks at me, shaking her head. "Oh, no, Mr Grey doesn't date. I've been working here for over six years now and, still, he hasn't had a single date in that time."

Oh, how confusing then. So she isn't his girlfriend? Kate's words come back to me about his reputation. "You know, my friend said that Christian Grey has sort of a reputation for being a bit of a philanderer," I mutter, hoping to make it sound like a joke.

"Oh, does he now?" Only Andrea doesn't laugh along with me or smile.

Protective. She is extremely protective of Mr Grey, I realize.

She sighs loudly, pushing her chair near mine. "Look, Ana, I'll let you in on a little secret. This is because, already during the short time since I've met you, I like you and I can see you becoming a valuable employee here." Her sincere, heartfelt words startle me. "Working here for as long as I have, you learn to pick up on a few key things: One, is to never ask questions. You turn a blind eye and focus on your work. You keep your head down. Mr Grey often has people come in for lunch- women, yes- but you'll get used to that. The longer you stay here, the more natural it will seem."

I stare at her and she stares back. It's as if she knows something I don't.

"I'm not supposed to tell you this, but"- she pauses to glance over at Mr Grey's shut door quickly, like she doesn't want him overhearing -"usually the women in your job don't last very long here."

 _What? Women in my job haven't lasted very long in the company? Why? What happened to them?_

"The one he hired before you got fired two days into the job," she mutters. "She was asking around and Mr Grey didn't like that. That's why you should be careful not to ask too many questions."

The door to Mr Grey's office opens and we both startle. He appears, looking rather desperately at Andrea. Andrea rises from her chair, rushing over to him dutifully. I hear them speaking in low, urgent voices while I multitask on the filing.

"She's a little dizzy. It didn't occur to me until after I finished that she hasn't eaten anything. Can you handle that for me? You know what to do."

"Of course. Come on, sweetie." I glance up to see Andrea showing Leila to the couch, looking like a mother fussing over a daughter. I am both concerned and confused by how worse for wear she looks all simply due to having lunch with my new boss. She gets Leila down into one of the comfy chairs in the waiting area, her voice soothing. "Mr Grey said you hadn't eaten anything this morning?"

"Yes, I... I haven't." Leila's voice is small and breathy. She seems like she is on the verge of passing out with the way she is slumped in the chair, strands of her dark hair falling across her face, her mouth parted as she breathes heavily, her eyes closed.

"I have something for you, something to fix your blood sugar levels. You'll be okay, sweetie. You just need to sit and rest until your blood sugar levels return to normal again."

Andrea grabs something out of her desk drawer; A few Reese's Buttercup pieces. She forces the girl to suck on one of them, speaking to her gently while she sits beside her, patting her arm occasionally. How strange. I am absently reminded of how at blood donor centers, they give you candy afterwards to prevent you from fainting and to restore your blood sugar levels. Why that passes my mind, I have no idea.

I glance towards Mr Grey's office and my heart feels as if it has frozen.

Christian Grey stands there, leaning against the open door of his office with a shoulder, his face less pallid than it was during my interview. His complexion is almost healthily ruddy. His grey gaze is... right on me, intense and unwavering, his jaw clenched.

The blood rising to my face, I immediately drop my head, focusing on filing again. Even while working, I still somehow can feel the heat of his gaze lingering on me, as if he's still staring. Only when I muster the courage to glance up again, I see that he is already gone. I sag into the chair a little, feeling my heart race. Why does he make me feel so weird?

 _Hope you liked this one? Love to know your thoughts. Sorry for any mistakes. Is it too silly?_


	3. Chapter 3

Hey, so sorry I've taken long to update. I couldn't remember how to access my account to write chapters which was mega frustrating. Hope you are still interested :) Would love to know your thoughts!

* * *

 **Chapter 3**

 _I'm suffocating. I try to scream out for help, but its suffocating me. Thick foggy smoke filling my lungs, choking me. Orange fills my vision, vivid and painful. Then somewhere in the distance, I hear a mans mournful desperate scream._

 _Wailing out my name._

 _Trying to get to me._

 _I place both hands on the glass window and it radiates scorching_ _heat, blistering me._

I wake abruptly with my legs jerking, my heart pounding. I sit up, cupping a hand over my chest, feeling all sticky and grossly sweaty while I try to regulate my breathing. I've had a nightmare, the first one I've really had in months. Why have one now?

I focus on my surroundings, squinting in the pitch-black darkness of my bedroom as something to concentrate on. I cannot make sense of the dream. All I know, is that it somehow felt real; As if I was truly burning, as if I was standing in front of true heat and flames. But I wasn't, obviously. I'm in my bed, safe, in the apartment I share with Kate.

What a weird, surreal dream. And the guy's voice I heard. A man was screaming out to me, as if he was trying to help me get out of... What was I in? A car? I think I was in a burning car, considering the glass windows. How weird.

Once my heart finally steadies to its regular, calm rhythm, I flop back down beneath the covers, drifting back to sleep again.

* * *

When my alarm brutally awakens me for the day ahead of me at work, I get up, getting dressed in my work clothes for the day. My work clothes so happen to be another skirt Kate let me borrow, as well as black stilettos and a plain white blouse. My eyelids feel heavy as I peer back at my reflection in the wall-length mirror on the back of my bedroom door while trying to assemble my hair into something that neatly resembles a bun.

I feel like I haven't slept at all, and considering the bags beneath my eyelids, it seems I haven't.

Getting into the kitchen, I find Kate already awake, listening to music on her laptop. She looks a lot better than she did before; Already dressed neatly for the day ahead of her. She shuts off the music and twists around in the chair to look at me as I make myself a cup of tea.

"You don't look too good?" she remarks.

"Gee, thanks," I mutter under my breath, getting a teabag out. "I didn't sleep very well last night."

"Why not?" She blinks at me, finally truly concerned. "You feeling okay?"

"I had a nightmare last night."

"Thought so. You were pretty loud."

I scrutinize her, wondering if she's just teasing me. But Kate actually looks seriously worried. "I was loud?"

"Yeah, I thought I heard you screaming for a bit. What was the dream about?"

I was screaming in my sleep? Definitely unusual for me. "I had a really vivid dream where I was stuck in a car or something, Kate. It was on fire, I think." The kettle goes off, so I finally pour boiling water into the cup. My palm seems to sting on the handle, reminding me of how in the dream my palms felt like they were burning from the heat radiating through the glass. "And this man... I could hear someone crying out to me like they were trying to help me..."

"Sounds pretty freaky," Kate agrees, making me feel better. "Who was the guy screaming though?"

"That's the thing. I never saw him. I just heard him... yelling for me." I gnaw on my lip thoughtfully, then shrug, determined to brush it all off. It was just a silly dream, after all. Who says dreams need to make sense?

"Do you think you're just stressed about the new job? Could that be a reason for such a weird dream?"

"I don't know, Kate." I sigh helplessly. _Am I stressed about this whole new job thing?_ "I wouldn't consider myself stressed, though. So far, the job has been great."

When Kate presses the button to play her music again, she starts humming along. _Talk over._

* * *

I manage to get through a full week at my new job.

So far, it's been moderately stressful, trying to learn everything and understand how everything works and what my work duties entail. Andrea has turned out to be a huge help, though. Mainly, I am there to be her assistant, as well as Mr Grey's. Her helping hand.

Whenever Andrea is finished with something, she'll hand it to me to proofread, which turns out good for me, as since I aced English Lit, I've always been particularly good with grammar. My first half of the morning routine is basically helping her sort mail and editing email correspondence to clients.

As a new pattern, I've been finding out, Christian Grey is nowhere to be seen, particularly not between the early morning and noon hours. Andrea just assures me he's busy doing whatever it is he does in his office with the window drapes closed and (reminding me of her warning when I first started) she'll give me a look, one that warns me I shouldn't ask questions. She keeps me _that busy_ that its hard to ask questions anyway.

The elevators pings open at a little after twelve and a young woman appears, another pattern I've noticed. A woman always comes for Christian Grey at this hour. They all look somewhat the same; Skinny, lanky-limbs, with brown limp strands of hair, strangely anemic looking.

This young girl is no different; Dressed in tight black jeans with a tear around each knee and a band T-shirt. I wonder why these young women haven't commented about Mr Grey having different women in his office for lunch like some sort of playboy? Do they not care or do they already know?

"I'm here for Christian Grey," the girl says in a husky, quiet voice, interrupting my wondering on just what it is he does with them. Casual sex? Isn't it illegal to have noon romps daily in your office?

"Great, just in time." Andrea puts on her customary polite smile as she glances up from her computer monitor. "Ana," she says, turning to me meaningfully. _What? She's never done this before?_ "Can you please notify Mr Grey that his twelve o'clock lunch is here? I'm sort of preoccupied."

Before I can protest, Andrea turns back to her screen, typing away furiously. Damn it.

I stand from my chair hesitantly, smiling uncertainly at the woman. I have no idea how to deal with this situation, but I think I've observed Andrea enough over the week to imitate her.

"Just a moment please," I tell the young girl, but my voice sounds too nervous. "I'll just let Mr Grey know you are here for lunch."

My heart starts racing as I head to Mr Grey's office. My palms feel ridiculously sweaty as I raise my hand, knocking twice on his office door. I breathe out through my mouth heavily. _God, why am I nervous? You'd think he's a dangerous parasite about to murder me or something judging by the way I am reacting._

"Yes, Andrea?"

I clench my eyes shut, licking my dry lips to moisten them. Crap, he's mistaken me for Andrea.

"Um, no, Sir," I get out, leaning close to the wood. "This is... Ana Steele. Andrea's preoccupied."

"Yes, what is it?"

I grit my teeth, giving my head a little shake. Gee, I really need to get my act together. "It's just that your, um... twelve o'clock lunch is here."

It comes out all wrong, and I feel unreasonably mortified at the words that escape my mouth. _His twelve o'clock lunch? Really? What; is he going to eat her for lunch or something? Gee, Steele. Get it together._

"Thank you, Miss Steele. Bring her in." He doesn't bother correcting me. Forcing a smile on my face, I turn back to the young woman.

"He's ready for you," I breathe, then I reach for the door handle anxiously. Andrea usually opens the door, right? I manage to wrench it open, noticing first thing how shadowy and dark it is inside his office in contrast to outside it.

Is he allergic to the sun or something? Why put the drapes down now?

As the young woman slips in, I hear an odd gurgling sound, like the sound someone's stomach makes when they are hungry, but louder to the point of it being so obvious its crazy. My curiosity and nosiness gets the better of me. I have to look and see.

I move quickly, shoving my face in through the crack. I can barely just see Mr Grey standing by his desk while the young girl moves in front of him without a word. Are they going to kiss? Is he going to undo his pants? Was Kate right about his active nightlife and how he's a bit of a philanderer?

Like an invisible vacuum cleaner sucking through the air, creating a powerful seal, the door to Mr Grey's office suddenly breezes closed, obstructing my vision abruptly, startling me. Holy crap, what was that? I stand back, my heart pounding furiously, shaken. I'm being ridiculous. I need to relax.

I manage to move back to my chair beside Andrea. Twenty minutes later (yes, I've been counting) the young woman emerges, looking paler somehow. At least she isn't near to fainting like that Leila woman I noticed the first time around after she went into his office to have lunch with him. Andrea barely acknowledges her as the woman presses the button to exit in the elevator.

I turn to look over at Mr Grey's office and my heart freezes in my chest. There, he stands against the doorway, staring right at me, his grey eyes unwavering and intense. I don't know why it makes me nervous and flusters me, but it does.

He's been doing it all week, staring at me when he thinks I'm not going to notice, particularly after having a woman in for a noon romp. I even thought I caught him staring down at my bare ankles and my legs in my skirt on my way to the staff bathroom once, though I'm not too sure what he means by it. Kate joked with me one night that guy's tend to stare when they are "into you" and that it means he finds me attractive, but I hardly think my new boss would be into me in the way she thinks. It's just strange that he stares so much, though.

Why does he stare at me? I wonder desperately as I hold his gaze.

He's the first one to break contact, surprisingly. His brows mar as he glances down, an odd brief look of confusion passing over his face. He definitely seems ruddier after his noon romps in the office with young women, I've noticed throughout the week; He appears healthier, happier, fuller in the face. Whatever he eats for lunch with these numerous girls does wonders for his complexion obviously. He lifts his gaze to look at me once more, his lips parting. Then he backs away, though in a slow, drained way, as though its difficult for him to cease staring at me, before disappearing back into his office.

I sag in my chair, touching my face surreptitiously, wondering if perhaps I have something on it. What's wrong with me? Why does he always seem to be looking at me, so transfixed?

 _Hope you are still interested? Your thoughts are important to me so do tell me what you think, or any hopes for what will happen, anything :) Sorry for taking long and sorry if I'm bad at writing!_


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you. Hope you like this one and that it's hopefully a bit more exciting?

 **Chapter 4**

I always spend my lunch breaks doing practically the same thing lately.

I'll go into the staff area, grabbing my bag with the banana and yogurt I've packed. Then I'll make myself a cup of tea, bag in, and carry my lunch back to my desk while Andrea and I talk, chatting about our weekends or what plans we have for the evening while I eat.

Carefully, I carry my hot cup of tea and a spoon down the hallway while holding my banana and my yogurt cup in the other. Andrea gives me a fleeting look once I slide back into my chair.

"Same again?" she remarks lightly.

I place my mug near my keyboard, leaning towards her. "What's that?" I ask, confused.

"Yogurt and a banana again, Ana?"

I feel myself flush at her words as I peel the lid off my yogurt, grabbing the spoon. _Am I that predictable?_

Fortunately, she doesn't wait for an answer. Andrea answers a phone-call, leaving me in peace. I dunk my spoon into the yogurt, then bring it up to my mouth, sucking it in. It's vanilla, my favorite. I lick my lips, pulling the spoon out. As I do it again, bringing some yogurt up to my mouth, I sense it then.

A strange feeling overcomes me. A feeling like I'm being watched or observed.

Spoon halfway in my mouth, my eyes dart to Christian Grey's office. The little hairs on the nape of my neck rise, my heart hammering.

He's there, his head outside his office door. Watching me. I really wish I knew the reason for why he constantly seems to stare at me. He's been doing it since I started working here, and it sort of bugs me. There isn't anything on my face at all- and believe me, I just went and checked in the bathroom mirror barely fifteen minutes ago. So what reason for the staring?

I immediately wrench the spoon out of my mouth, swallowing down the yogurt as my face feels really hot beneath his gaze. The yogurt slides down my throat, cold, refreshing, as I stare back, holding his gaze. I have never met a man with such a captivating, intense gaze before. With difficulty, I glance down, breaking his staring contest, focusing on my lunch again.

Then suddenly, I feel him, more so than see him move, out of the corner of my eye. One minute he's near his office door staring at me, and in the next, his face is inches away from the side of mine as he leans down over my chair. I jolt in my chair, breathing deeply, almost dropping my spoon at the unexpectedness of it all.

His mouth goes close to my earlobe. "Can I see you after the day is done, Miss Steele?" He breathes in my ear, soft and quiet.

"Um, y-yes, of course, Sir." Oh, no. Why would he need to see me? "Is there a problem?" I ask, though my voice is too soft, too breathless. I cannot even bring myself to turn my head. "Is there a problem with my work or... or how I'm performing here so far?"

"No. I just wish to see you, that's all."

When he straightens up and moves back into his office, I hear the door snap closed loudly. At the loss of his presence, it's like a weight has automatically been lifted off my shoulders. I sag in my chair, breathing deeply. He makes me feel the oddest sensations imaginable, his mere presence and closeness alone. I wouldn't say it's a bad thing exactly, how he affects me but... no man has certainly ever affected me the way he has. My body seems to react in strange ways around him; My heartbeat quickening, the little hair follicles on the nape of my neck and arms rising.

There really is something about him that I feel is different. Just an intuition. And now he wishes to see me after work. Why? Am I in any sort of trouble? I suppose I will figure that out once the day ends and its time to leave the office. I just hope him wanting to speak to me alone doesn't mean he's terminating my employment already and so soon when I haven't had a long enough chance to prove myself yet.

By the time end of day arrives, I help Andrea shut off the computer monitors and head into the staff kitchen to wash my cup. I take my time while Andrea checks her texts, realizing I'm sort of delaying the inevitable of heading into Mr Grey's office. I really wish I knew why he requested to speak to me. When Andrea notices I look nervous, I tell her.

"Well, don't worry about it too much," she laughs, yanking her blonde hair out of her bun, letting it fall across her face. "It's usual for Mr Grey to do that. He does that to most new staff here."

Just like that, my nerves seem to ease a little. "Oh, good. So I'm not in trouble or anything like that?"

"Surely not. It's just... something he does. He likes to check in." She grabs her bag, pulling out her purse. "See you tomorrow, Ana."

"Okay," I breathe with a smile, reaching for the towel to wipe my mug up. "See you tomorrow, Andrea."

"And hey, don't worry. It's normal for him, I swear."

Feeling better, I grab my bag, heading slowly towards his office. Although Andrea reassured me that he does this often, I still can't help feeling anxious. I really do need this damn job. I'll be so disappointed if he lets me go already, despite how he affects me in such disarming ways.

Sucking in a deep breath through my mouth, I approach his office, noticing the door is open for once. I still knock, out of mere respect.

"Miss Steele?" he calls expectantly.

"Um, yes. You wished to speak to me at the end of the day, sir?"

I help myself, entering, and I cannot believe it happens again. It's like the first time I entered his office for the job interview all over again. Somehow, the tip of my shoe gets caught on that same pesky doorjamb again, and I'm falling forward to my knees, my skirt hitching up at the impact, my knees stinging as my handbag flies out from my grip. How embarrassing can this be, to do this in front of him for the second time in a row?

"Goddamn it," I mumble shakily, shutting my eyes for a second, my face burning with embarrassment. "Stupid doorjamb getting in the way."

It's like déjà vu all over again when he strides towards me briskly, holding his hand out to me. I glance up at those pale, long fingers again, at the blue veins prominent on his palm, before accepting his hand up. My face is flaming- both at tripping over again, and also, my childish outburst at the stupid doorjamb. Just like I noticed last time, his hand is cold again. Too cold. I hiss when he hauls me up onto my feet, seemingly effortlessly.

"Your hand is really cool," I mutter without thinking, and I notice a fleeting look come across Mr Grey's face before he lets my hand go.

"Yes, I get that a lot," he murmurs, and he bends down, retrieving my handbag for me. "I've always had... poor circulation as a child."

"Oh." I smile at him thankfully as he hands me my handbag by the strap, careful not to touch me again.

"Please." He gestures towards an empty seat as he walks around his desk. "Take a seat, Miss Steele."

The nerves return as I sink down into the chair, plopping my handbag down beside me. I try to brace myself for the worst as I peer over at him nervously while he sits, straightening his tie. I still feel like he's about to fire me or something. Self-consciously, I rub my hands and palms down the sides of my skirt, waiting. He isn't making it any easier on me; He simply stares at me, his eyes so bright. I don't think I noticed before how bright they were.

"Well, first things first," he begins with a sigh, "How do you find you are settling in?"

"Good. Andrea's been extremely... helpful and nice." I lick my dry lips as I watch him reach down beneath his desk, grabbing something. He pulls out a folder, setting it on his desk. I can feel my nerves increasing roof high when he opens it, leafing through a few pages. God, is he going to terminate my employment contract or something? "Sir, is there a... particular reason why you've asked me in here?" I get out, just wanting to get it over with. If he is going to fire me, then I'd prefer to hear the bad news now. "Is there... something wrong with how I've been performing so far?"

"What makes you assume that, Miss Steele? Do you find there is something wrong with how you've been performing?" It's impossible to know what he's thinking at all.

"I...I'm not sure, Sir. Why don't _you_ tell me?"

I wiggle in the seat a little, feeling the perspiration build around my armpits as he remains silent. He licks his thumb as he ruffles through the papers. God, he's really not making this easy on me. It's like he's enjoying this, he's enjoying prolonging my torture and misery.

"It's better, I see," he finally says, and he pulls out a sheet of paper, shutting the folder back up. I have no idea what he means by that. My work performance is better or... what?

"Pardon? What... what's better?"

"Your ankle, Miss Steele." Finally, he meets my gaze again while shoving the folder back in the drawer, slamming it shut. "It's better. It's no longer... bleeding?"

 _Oh, of course. My ankle. How I scratched it._

"Um, yes. It's a lot better now, thank you." It's weird that he pointed that out. I mean, yeah, it's a lot better. It's healing, scabbing over. But why would he bring that up again?

"I have a few questions," he explains, at last letting me know what's up. I sit up straighter, paying attention as he grabs a pencil from the corner of his desk. "They're just... something I do with most of my staff. It's what I like to do, just some standard questions."

"Um, of course." I wait for him to begin asking me, only I realize that wasn't what he meant when he pushes the paper towards me. When I reach forward to accept the pencil from him, our fingertips touch. I cannot believe how cold his fingers are.

As I start reading the list of questions, I can feel my heart racing, a glow heat spreading up my chest, my cheeks. I can feel him staring at me from where he sits, dead still and quiet, in his chair. When I pluck up the courage to peek at him, I find him observing me, his head slightly cocked to the side. One hand strokes down his tie absently, the other beneath his chin, his long forefinger stroking his bottom lip. Why's he staring at me like that? What's he thinking when he looks at me?

The questions seem basic enough. Friendly questions up at top, like hobbies and what I believe my traits are, my best qualities. How would my closest friends describe me. Then, at the bottom, they start to get more personal. What does my boyfriend/girlfriend/significant other do for a living?

"What does my boyfriend do for a living?" I read out, peering up at him questioningly. "I'm sorry, Sir, but... how is this relevant?"

"It's simply breaking the ice," he explains with a shrug, and when I watch his mouth as his lips part while he speaks, there seems to be something shining there on his teeth. Or maybe it's just his teeth? They're shining, pearly white. Why am I even looking at his teeth to begin with? His canines look elongated, though. Or maybe I'm just tired and being silly, imagining things? "If the questions make you feel in anyway uncomfortable, it isn't compulsory to answer them, Miss Steele. Feel free to leave a blank space."

"It doesn't make me feel uncomfortable, that question," I explain quickly. "I just... I fail to see the relevance. Even if I _did_ have a partner, which I don't. I'm single."

Something illuminates in his grey eyes at my words, though I'm not sure what. He resumes stroking around his lip again. "Very well."

Refocusing on the questions, I fill them in as honestly as possible. Then there's one, at the very bottom, that sets me on edge. My body tenses, my heart feeling icy with shock. How inappropriate. Are you taking the contraceptive pill for premenstrual syndrome/delaying monthly menstrual cycle?

I lift my gaze to meet his again. "The last question is very inappropriate," I point out.

"Is it?" he asks, surprised. "Frankly it's been awhile since I've read through those questions again. Please, enlighten me, Miss Steele."

I clear my throat roughly, before reading it out in a clear, soft voice, "It asks whether the contraceptive pill is being taken for premenstrual syndrome or delaying the monthly menstrual cycle?" I straighten up in my chair as I meet his gaze again. "Why would you need to know that, whether one of your female staff members are taking the contraceptive pill? How is that... any of your business?"

"Some of the female staff here have voiced often that they would feel... happier if they took particular days off during that time of the month so that they can recover," Mr Grey explains without missing a beat. "That opinion had been voiced often during our annual meetings which is why I've now made it optional for staff to take a few days off during that time of the month."

Wow. I've never heard of someone doing that for their staff before, letting them take a few days off work because they were suffering from unbearable menstrual cramps or period pain. Still, I don't feel comfortable answering this one. "I'm going to leave that last question blank, if that's all right, Mr Grey?"

"Of course, that's fine," he assures me, though I get the suspicion he is mildly disappointed. I set the pencil down, sliding the paper quiz back to him. He reads through it, scanning my answers quickly. "So you're a fan of reading?"

"Yes, that's my biggest hobby."

"And you have your own car, I see." Briefly, he puts the tip of his thumb in his mouth, biting, clenching down with his front and bottom teeth. Then he lets go, moving it away. "Your closest friend would describe you as... loyal." He meets my gaze. "Loyalty is extremely important, Miss Steele."

"Yes," I murmur in agreement.

"And I see that you haven't listed traveling as one of your hobbies?" he says, something there in his voice.

"Well, that's probably because I don't travel much. Or at all, really. I haven't been out of the States, even." I force out a laugh. "I'm really... boring."

"Interesting," he mutters. It almost sounds like he's skeptical, like he doesn't believe what I'm saying. _What?_

I really don't understand. Is this really the only reason he called me in here? Simply because he wanted me to fill out a quiz with some not too professional questions? I glance down, lifting up my sleeve, checking the time on my wrist watch. Already, we've been in here ten minutes. What more can he want from me? Andrea said that this is something he routinely does, in checking in. Does he quiz all his staff informally like this?

When I bring my eyes up from my watch, I discover him watching me again, staring at me like he has in that similar way I've noticed all week. I wonder why he stares so much, a bit like he's entranced, his eyes bright. His fingers curl and crinkle the quiz paper, and it takes me a second to notice they are trembling.

"Why is it that you are always staring at me?" It comes out of my mouth before I can stop myself. I just really wish to know. "It's like... every time I turn around, I find you staring at me from your office door, Mr Grey?" I swallow nervously. "Have I, um, done something wrong or something that bothers you?"

My heartbeat seems to quicken as I hold his gaze. He licks his lips, dragging his tongue slowly around them. "I suppose I'm simply... trying to place you," he says, his voice going softer, lower.

"Place me?" I repeat with a nervous laugh. "What do you mean by that?"

"You look... familiar to me," he admits, though I don't understand what he means by that. How can I look familiar to him? We've never met before the interview?

"Well, surely not," I disagree with a shrug. "I mean, we've never met before aside from when I came in for the job interview?" I shake my head, stunned. "So I'm not really sure how you can say that?" I try to search my memory, wondering if we have met before. But it only comes back blank. I'm positive we haven't met before.

"I want you working in here beside me tomorrow," he suddenly says, his voice terse, harsh. He's deliberately changing subject. But work beside him tomorrow? "There's a few things that I need to show you, a few things by protocol that we do around here that I need to inform you of."

"Okay," I agree hesitantly. I check my watch again, then reach down blindly for the strap of my bag. "Um, I really should be getting home if that's okay, Mr Grey," I manage, hoping finally he'll let me go. I feel this weird tension in the room, this odd shift in atmosphere, particularly with the way he's looking at me. "It's just that... my roommate sort of worries if I'm home too late." It's a flat-out lie, I just don't want to be here all night. But he can't know that, can he?

"Of course." Scrunching the paper between his fingers, he reaches down, shoving the quiz I filled out into his desk drawer. "I understand, Miss Steele." Rising to his feet fluidly, he buttons his jacket. "I'll walk you out, see you to your car."

"Oh, you really don't have to do that, Sir," I protest, getting to my feet as well.

"Please. It's the very least I can do."

He strides around his desk, holding an arm out towards the door, showing me out. I toss my strap over my shoulder, walking out of his office obediently. He clicks off the light, shutting his office door closed. Then we walk down the corridor together towards the elevator. I find myself fiddling with my hands nervously as he presses the button, calling the elevator up to the floor.

"Is it a long drive to where you live?" he asks me, making general conversation, I guess.

"Not really. It only takes about ten or fifteen minutes at the most."

The doors finally open and we step in. Without really knowing why, I edge towards the furthest corner, keeping distance from him. I'm acting like he's a dangerous animal or something silly like that. When I turn to look at him from where he stands, I feel my cheeks heat up. He's staring at me. Or more so, at my neck, strangely enough. Nervously, I reach up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

"So I'll come straight into your office tomorrow morning?" I ask, hoping to break the tension.

"Yes, first thing when you arrive in."

I nod, peeking at him out of the corner of my eye again. I'm pretty sure he's still staring at me while he waits for the elevator to reach ground floor. Why does he make me feel so strange, so... vulnerable yet flustered?

"Your perfumes lovely," he comments, a throaty compliment. He sounds like he has something stuck in his throat.

"Thank you," I murmur, and once the elevator doors open at last, he beckons me out. I park in the underground garage and it isn't empty. There's a few cars, here and there. I wonder which one is his.

"Well, I think I can take it from here," I whisper, reaching through my bag to locate my keys. I find them, and I pull them out, stumbling still as I peer up at him. "My cars just over there." I point and gesture to my trusty old Beetle that's parked all by its lonesome. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mr Grey." I'm hoping he gets my hint to leave me alone now, only he doesn't.

He starts walking with me towards where my lone car is, but with more athletic graceful movements than I can muster.

"Drive safely," he says once I open my door. Funnily enough, I hear a peculiar, anxious edge to his voice.

"Yes, you too, Mr Grey. Bye." As I slide into the car and slam the door, I glance out the window nervously while shoving my handbag on the floor. He's gone. He's suddenly gone. _What?_ I peer back behind my seat through the back window, then out the door windows, peering around through the underground garage. He's nowhere to be seen. How strange. _How did he disappear so quickly?_

It's only when I insert the key in, starting my car up that his comment reoccurs to me.

 _"Your perfumes lovely."_ Too weird. I never wear perfume.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for your comments and encouragement. I also appreciate especially the comment/review where advice was given, hopefully I'll try incorporate more of that drawn to him feeling that Ana should be feeling towards Christian. She does feel attracted to him but she naturally senses something is different. Where Ana and Christian have possibly met before will be explained soon. Thank you! If you have any other advice or comments, I am eager to read them and appreciate advice.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

I'm due to get my first pay tonight, so I don't go straight home to the apartment. I call into the bank, slotting my card into the machine, drawing out some money. When I get my receipt, I check my balance. Holy crap! I've been paid nine hundred and fifty dollars, and I've only been working a week.

I know what this means. No more annoying noodles all week for Kate and I. Happily, I splurge for once, heading into a takeaway shop, getting us some sushi- our favorite. Kate will be so happy once I arrive home and we get to eat something different tonight. I cannot wait to see the look on her face once I show up with both the receipt that tells of my bank balance, and our yummy sushi for dinner.

Things have been incredibly hard and tight for us. But now that I have a job, hopefully things will be better. Kate still has her flu, but hopefully it will start going now that we can eat something substantial other than noodles. Carrying the sushi to where I've parked my car, I unlock it, something catching my eye from across the street. There's a weird long shadow near a streetlamp. It almost looks like a person, a tall guy. Is someone standing there watching me?

Opening my door and sitting in, I place the sushi container carefully on the seat next to me, as well as my wallet and handbag. When I glance over at that same streetlamp again, the shadow is gone. I shake my head as I insert the key in the car. Maybe I'm being a bit jumpy and paranoid tonight, that's all? Maybe I'm just seeing silly things?

I arrive at our duplex, and I park and lock up, bringing our takeaway container upstairs with me while shoving my wallet into my bag. When I get in, I find Kate in the kitchen. She's already got the kettle going for me, knowing I love my teas at the end of a day.

"Yum," she remarks when she sees what I'm holding. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Yep, I got sushi! Our favorite!" I hand her the container and she starts putting the rolls on two separate plates. "Also, I got my first pay today."

"Oh, yeah? How was it?"

"Nearly a thousand dollars for one week's worth of work," I admit to her. Her eyes bulge as she stares at me.

"Wow, that's awesome. Almost a thousand dollars?"

"I know, right? Which means no more frugal eating. No more noodles every night of the week!"

Happily, we take our sushi into the living room while watching TV, my new steaming cup of tea on the coffee table. Things are definitely looking brighter for us, at least. We're so hungry, so happy with our sushi that we cannot even bother talking.

"How's the job search going?" I finally ask her through a mouthful of avocado once our hunger has tapered off a little.

"Not so good, so far. I've applied for over twenty jobs and still no callbacks as yet." Poor Kate. She's been trying really hard to get a job, and I know it frustrates her somewhat that I'm now working while she isn't. At least she has her father to fall back on, and he helps give her money every week towards rent and supplies. I know she doesn't like having to rely on him though.

"Well, you'll get there eventually," I assure her. "Soon we'll both be in steady employment. Just keep your head up."

"How's the job going so far?" she asks me, reaching for the soy sauce. She squirts some over her sushi. "How's your boss?"

"It's been pretty good. He called me back in his office after work, though." I remember his quiz, how some of his questions were rather inappropriate. Particularly the menstrual cycle contraception one. "He even got me to do this quiz, and one of the questions asked whether I was taking the contraceptive pill to help my menstrual cycle?"

"What the hell, Ana? How can that be any of his business?"

"I know, right? But apparently he asks that of all of his female staff. Apparently he's trying to be understanding, and he lets women take that week off when their periods are really painful. I don't know why, though. Sort of weird."

"Well, that _is_ pretty understanding," she murmurs after a moment of thought. "It would be nice if all male bosses were that considerate. I know I'd hate to battle through working with severe menstrual cramps. I wish all male bosses would be that compassionate."

I want to tell her about how odd he makes me feel, about how he makes the hairs on my body stand on edge, about how he stares at me like he's so captivated by me. He's good looking and extremely handsome, majorly so. But I just cannot shake that feeling that there is something different about him. I'm not sure what it is, but my body just is different around him, something unstoppable, something instinctive. I wonder what it means.

* * *

Next morning, I get changed into my white blouse, skirt, and stilettos again, straightening my hair for my big day. Today, Mr Grey, Christian, wants me to work with him in his office this morning. I'm not too sure how I feel about that, to be perfectly honest. I feel anxious, yet sort of excited all at the same time. I wonder what he has in store for me. I'm just not sure what to expect and being in close contact with him, working side to side... I think that makes me anxious most of all. The thought of being alone with him, next to him, in his office.

Particularly when he has a habit of shutting himself into his office in the early morning hours, not resurfacing until the afternoon after he's had his lunch. What will he be like, given that he's got a reputation for not being a morning person all that much? I hope he isn't intolerably cranky or mean to me.

As I get into work after having a light breakfast and a cup of tea, I straighten my blouse and make sure it's properly tucked into my skirt as I take the slow elevator ride up. It still feels so surreal at times, knowing that I'm working now for one of the biggest companies in Seattle. As I saw by my first pay package last night, the money's actually pretty good and decent for staff too.

The elevator doors open, and I push in through the main building floor where I work. I find Andrea already there, opening up the blinds, letting light in through the windows. She's an early starter, I've noticed. But something tells me she's happy to do that. She's passionate and dedicated to her job, which I suppose, you have to be, working as long for Mr Grey as she has for the past six years.

"Ana, can you help me set up for the day?" she asks, and obediently, I go around, switching on the computer monitors for staff. "How was your morning?" she asks, making conversation. "Did you get stuck in traffic?"

"No, fortunately, I didn't. I think I missed the main traffic. You?"

"My morning was pretty quiet. I got caught in some traffic myself, though, which happens mostly every morning I drive here at six."

I can't help glancing towards Mr Grey's office curiously while switching on the large flat screen TV near the waiting area. His door is closed still. Is he here, an early riser too? Or is he still... away?

"Is Mr Grey here?" I ask quietly, finding the remote. I switch the volume right down on the TV.

"Yeah, he's here. He always gets here before anybody else does, before sunrise." I notice she gives me that look again, her signature look to remind me not to ask too many questions. But I'm sincerely curious.

"He asked me last night after work to come into his office this morning to help him with a few things?"

Andrea stares at me, noticeably startled. What? Isn't that something he does with all new staff? "He did?" she mutters dubiously. "He asked you to head into his office this morning for help?" Why do I get the sneaky feeling that she doesn't believe me? Why's it so difficult to believe?

"Yeah, he did. After he got me to fill out this weird quiz thing."

To my relief, she breaks out into a smile and an amused laugh while straightening the collection of cards on the main desk. "Yeah, that's Mr Grey for you. He did that to me when I arrived here six years ago, too."

"Even with the quiz asking if you were, um... taking any pills? Whether you required days off during your time of the month?"

"Yeah, that too." She sounds so unfazed, like it's normal. "I took him up on the offer, by the way. We're incredibly lucky that we have a male boss that is willing to let us take a week off when that time comes." Again she sounds defensive, like he's someone she feels protective over. I wonder why or if its simply because she's been working for him for over six long years. Maybe she's gotten to know him well and they have something of a personal friendship together? "Can't say I'm not surprised that he asked you into his office this morning," she goes on. "He rarely does that. Just be warned that he isn't a morning person. If he gets grumpy or takes it out on you, don't take it too personally. That's just him, Ana."

That's what I'm mainly worried about. I've been told at times that I am too oversensitive. By Kate especially. "I'll try not to take it personally then," I promise.

"Oh, and whatever you do, don't open the shutters. Okay?" Her voice startles me, the change in her tone. Suddenly, she sounds so much older than me, so much serious. "It's imperative that you don't. Mr Grey needs darkness of a morning. He doesn't cope well with the light. He's extremely... sensitive."

"Okay," I mutter, surprised by her reaction. "I won't touch or open the shutters."

"Which reminds me," she begins, and she marches to where her documents are. I feel so thrown by everything, by her sudden mood swing, her warning. "I printed off a few copies that Mr Grey needs to sign. Can you take them in for him and make sure he signs them before lunchtime?"

"Um, yes. Of course." She dumps a heavy, large stack into my arms. She really isn't wasting any time at all. "I'll make sure I get him to sign all of these. Anything else I'll need to do?"

She sighs loudly, rubbing her forehead. "No, that's everything as far as I can recall right now. I'll let you know if there's something else, though." She turns away, pulling open her computer chair and sitting. I stand aimlessly, weighed down by the copies of the documents. Then, pulling myself together, I make a start towards Mr Grey's office. It's hard to knock when I have all these copies as well as my handbag still, but I manage.

"Um, Mr Grey? It's Ana. Miss Steele." I lean closer to the wood, lifting my voice. "You mentioned last night about me coming in here and helping you with a few things? Well, I have a few copies that you need to sign, your um... signature on a few documents?"

"Yes," he finally answers, and his voice sounds different. "Please, come in, Miss Steele."

Managing to pull the doorknob open, I shove my way in, Andrea's voice ringing in my ears, her warning as I notice how dark it is in his office. How am I meant to see? There's no light in at all, the blinds completely shut and making everything pitch-black dark.

 _"Oh, and whatever you do, don't open the shutters. Okay?_ _It's imperative that you don't. Mr Grey needs darkness of a morning. He doesn't cope well with the light. He's extremely... sensitive."_

I really wish I could turn on a light or even open his blinds a little. I manage to edge my way towards his desk slowly, feeling out my surroundings with the tip of my stilettos. I don't trip over anything, at least. But what happens next startles me.

The door to his office, as though it's been magically blown shut by a vacuum, snaps closed, startling me. I jump at the loud noise, then recover, laughing softly. My heart is beating furiously in my chest as I squint around, trying to see where Mr Grey is. I think I can barely just see the shape of him, his white skin, where he sits behind his office chair at his desk.

"It is so incredibly dark in here," I murmur nervously. "It's a mystery how you even manage to get any work done without some light?" Finding his desk, I drop all the copies on it. "Um, Andrea gave me these for you to sign, sir. She needs them to be all signed before lunchtime." Without thinking, I edge towards his lamp near the window, intending to switch it on for at least a little bit of light.

Then he moves. So fast that I can barely comprehend it, I'm being pushed back, flat against the wall, his body weight against me. I struggle, gasping loudly as he slips his cold fingers around both of my wrists, and he pulls up, yanking my arms and hands above my head against the wall. When I try to get free, it's impossible. He's got both hands tight over my wrists in a vice-grip. Even wiggling and struggling, it's no good, because he has me literally helpless and pinned to the wall by his hips, his lower body.

"What... what are you doing, Mr Grey?" I breathe out, my voice a terrified squeak.

"Don't," he murmurs, and there's a deadly edge to his voice. He is breathing so fast that I feel his breaths against my throat, my chin. "Don't open the blinds, Miss Steele. Didn't Andrea tell you that first thing?"

"Yes, she did, but..." I swallow against a hard lump, my wrists beginning to ache. He's really starting to hurt me, yet I feel that strange atmosphere shift between us as well. "I wasn't going to open them. I... I was merely going to switch on your lamp instead so that I could see?"

His forehead almost brushes against mine as he leans against me, breathing shallowly.

"Please," I beg, trying not to sound too pained. "You're hurting me."

Without warning, he moves back, satisfied at my words. I drop my arms, rubbing both wrists due to his bruising grip, then I'm blinded momentarily when he clicks on the lamp, startling me. My heart is racing as I bring my eyes up to him, my breaths loud, squinting through the harsh white light. It was such a severe reaction, like he was terrified at the thought of me possibly opening his blinds, letting the lights in. I meet his gaze and he stares back at me for a moment, breathing loudly, his eyes wide, somewhat fearful, remorseful. I don't understand what is going on at all.

Maybe it's a trick of the light, but he appears so much paler, his cheeks caved in and hollower. As he sinks back down into his office chair, he leans his head back for a moment, closing his eyes, his mouth. He uses a hand to rub around his forehead like people do when they have the beginnings of a severe migraine. Is he badly ill or something?

"I wasn't going to open your blinds," I repeat, finding my voice, still rubbing my wrists. "Why is it so important that they aren't opened, anyway?"

He slowly reopens his eyes to look at me, lowering his head. He moves his hand away, gripping the arms of his office chair instead. He grips down so tight, I think I almost hear the plastic straining beneath his grip, though I'm probably imagining it. He swallows as he eyes me from head to toe, his gaze lingering on my fingers that are rubbing soothing circles over my wrist. "Did I hurt you?" he asks softly with concern.

"A little," I admit. "My wrists are hurting a little. You're very strong?"

"I didn't mean to hurt you," he mutters truthfully. He glances away from me, down at the documents on his desk, the copies Andrea requires he sign. Suddenly, he appears so defeated, so exhausted. "Is there anything I can do?"

Anything he can do? Such as what? "I'll be fine," I murmur with a shrug. "I'll probably bruise a little, though."

He smiles tightly down at the copy of documents, a sort of rueful twist of his lips. "I'll get started on signing these, then." Like it requires him a lot of effort, he grabs a pen, beginning to sign as I stand there aimlessly. I'm not quite sure what he expects of me. What am I meant to do now that I'm here? I drop my handbag, shoving it beneath the chair. "Please, Miss Steele," he finally speaks up after he's compiled a pile for signed documents. "Can you get some envelopes for me and start putting these in them?"

"Oh, yes, of course." I turn, lost. Where to find envelopes?

"There, to your right," he explains, as if reading my mind. "Just over there." He points to a drawer at the end of his office, a pained look coming across his face. I really do hope he's alright. "I just don't want to move, to be honest. I can't seem to muster up the energy this morning so you'll have to retrieve them yourself."

"That's fine," I whisper with sympathy. "I understand."

I manage to find the envelopes, and I bring them over to his desk, beginning to carefully fold and place the documents he signed in each one. My wrists are lined red from the roughness of his grasp, I can't help noticing when my sleeves ride up on my blouse. I glance over at him while doing my folding. He has one elbow leaning on the desk, massaging his head as he scribbles his signature. I wonder if I should do something.

"Do you have a headache?" I ask. "Should I maybe, um, ask Andrea for any pills or something for that? Is there anything I can do?"

"I'll be fine," he simply says, brushing my concern away. "I get like this quite a lot, you'll see, particularly in the mornings. It usually goes away after lunch time. I've always had this... ailment, this condition since I was a child where I get lethargic at certain points of the day. I'll be fine."

I wonder if it's because he spends all the day away in his office, maybe with the blinds closed? That can't be good for anyone. "Maybe you need to get some air?" I suggest lightly, folding up another signed document. "Maybe you're spending too much time in your office, and you need some air and a little... light?"

"I'll take your recommendations into consideration," he says brusquely. I get the feeling that I'm irritating him. Oops.

"Thank you so much for allowing me this opportunity," I force myself to say, because I want him to know how much I do appreciate the chance he's given me.

He stills from writing, peering up at me. "Opportunity?" he repeats with arched eyebrows.

"Yes, opportunity. For working here, and for... you, I mean. I really do appreciate it."

"You don't need to thank me, Miss Steele. I employ over four hundred staff each year. I'm always in need of more."

"Well, I want you to know I'm grateful nevertheless," I add strongly. "I know I don't have much qualifications for this role, but I... I appreciate you taking me on."

"Well, we all have to start somewhere, don't we?" he mutters, mainly to himself, I think.

He glances back down at the document, signing it off before putting it in the next pile for me to envelope. Things go strangely quiet after that, where we fall into a sort of comfortable working routine. I still can't shake what happened though, how he lunged for me, pinning me to the wall as though he was so fearful that I was about to open his blinds. Why the dramatic reaction? I may be wrong, because what would I know, but there's this tension there in the room between us. Sexual, perhaps? I certainly felt something when he pinned me to the wall, though maybe that was just fear and shock at him doing such a thing.

Once he finishes signing the last one, I've still got a huge pile of documents to envelope because I suppose I'm rather slow at it. Probably too slow for his liking, because he pushes his chair in closer, grabbing some envelopes himself to start helping. I guess I haven't mastered working speedily enough just yet, but at least he isn't getting angry at me for it.

I catch myself glancing at him again through the harsh lamplight as he seals an envelope shut with his finger. When I bring the one I've done up, licking it, wetting it with my tongue, he lifts his gaze to look at me, watching me. His lips part and I think I hear him inhale in deeply, his eyes intense, shining bright through the reflection of the lamp. I feel myself flush as I bring my eyes down, sealing it up now that it's got my moisture to stick it together.

Maybe I'm right? Maybe there is a strange tension there, something... slightly sexual? He certainly is attractive, even although he makes me feel odd in his company.

I keep my eyes strictly on another document as I fold it, smoothing it down at the edges with my palms. I see out of the corner of my eye him stand from his chair, it squeaking from the loss of his body weight. His strides are slow, almost sluggish, as he begins walking around his desk, meeting me at my side. I can feel my heart racing as I catch him standing beside me, and he begins with the envelopes again himself, only this time working beside me.

Every time we seem to reach down over the desk to grab another document or envelope, I think I feel his shoulder and arm brushing against mine. Why did he move to stand beside me? Maybe so he wouldn't be tempted to stare if I'm across from him? I don't know.

When I go to lick the seal to get moisture, I hear him breathe in deeply, then swallow. My cheeks redden as I get it over with quickly, sealing it up with my finger, stacking it in the neat enveloped pile of documents. I've certainly never felt this between another person before. Being aware of their presence, hyper-aware almost, to the point where it's almost hard to think straight.

A weird gurgling sound erupts from him a moment later, from his stomach, I think. It happens to me too at times, that rumbling noise you get when you're hungry. I glance over at him, discovering him staring right at me. There's a strange look to him; a pained look that creases his eyes, his forehead. His lips are pressed in a thin tight line, and he reaches down quickly, holding his hand against the desk as if to support himself upright from falling, his long fingers spread.

"I think that's enough for now, Miss Steele," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, like it's even too tedious for him speak. "Please, take the envelopes and the signed documents and resume doing it at your own desk. Also, please notify Andrea that I will have my lunch now."

His words surprise me, the urgency in them.

"Oh, okay?" Without another word, I grab all the documents and the envelopes, scurrying quickly out of his office.

As I turn back before closing the door, I see him just standing there, at his desk, still with his hand supporting him upright, his shoulders slumped. His eyes are closed tight, his other hand pressed against his stomach like he's in pain. I wonder what sort of medical condition he has, or whether it's serious.

I'm sincerely worried for him as I shut his door gently, rushing to where Andrea is. She looks over at me as I plop all the documents and envelopes onto my desk. "Mr Grey asked me to notify you that he's ready for his lunch," I inform her, and she nods, shifting back in her chair. She presses a number on speed dial, and as it rings through, she speaks through the mouthpiece in a quiet, hushed but urgent voice.

"Yes, good morning, this is Andrea, Mr Grey's assistant. He's requiring lunch earlier this morning, I know it's a bit short notice. Are you able to come in?" She throws a look my way and quickly, I grab the envelopes, getting back into it, hoping to appear busy and as though I'm not listening. "Well, it's urgent, as you know. Great, thank you." She clicks off the call, sighing loudly.

She doesn't explain or say anything to me about who she called. She simply gets back into working.

But then, fifteen minutes later, the elevator opens and that skinny Leila girl from before appears. Andrea smiles at her and I notice, when Leila lifts up a hand to push her hair behind her ear, she's got a bandage on her wrist. Is she a cutter? Suicidal? Why does he have lunch with her often? Does he know?

"Ana," Andrea says meaningfully, and getting my bearings right, I rise to my feet with a smile, showing Leila the way. I head to Mr Grey's office, knocking. "Mr Grey, um, Miss Williams is here for your lunch date, I suppose." I open the door, peeking in. He's still standing there, hunched over his desk, but he spins around to look at me, breathing raggedly. He looks so desperate, so pale.

"Thank you, Miss Steele. Bring her in."

Before I can tell her, Leila helps herself, pushing in through his door. I can't help watching as she moves towards him where he stands, so skinny and lanky her clothes hardly fit her properly. She reaches up, running her hand up his arm, whispering something to him. I wonder what sort of lunch they eat or whether Kate is true on him being a philanderer. He sounded really hungry though, if his stomach rumbling was anything to go by. I can't imagine their dates consisting of anything else but eating food, and she looks a bit too young for him.

"Give me five minutes, Miss Steele, and then I'll be with you again," Mr Grey says, bringing me back to my senses. I notice he doesn't look away from her. He sounds winded, breathless, like he's captivated by her.

Forcing myself to move, I nod with a smile, stepping back, shutting the door gently. I stand there for a moment against the door, unable to help it, surreptitiously holding my ear against the wood. I can't hear voices, I don't think. They aren't speaking. But then I think I hear a muffled voice, a cry? Someone's in pain, and it sounded like the Leila girl? Is he hurting her or something? Why would he when she's coming to have lunch with him? Something seriously is not adding up here.

Because I don't want Andrea to know I'm sort of eavesdropping, I head back to my desk quickly, folding and shoving more documents into their envelopes. I do it a lot more speedier this time, probably because I am eager to know what's going on or what's happening. I complete the last one, licking it hastily and sealing it shut. Andrea's taking a call and writing a note, so she merely nods her thanks and takes them from me.

I start heading back to his office door, and I knock.

"Yes, we're done now," he calls, and I can't help noticing how brighter he sounds, how more lively.

I open the door slightly, finding the Leila girl standing over him from where he sits, slumped in his chair. She is standing between his legs, probably even sitting in his lap earlier before I was permitted to open the door. She sees me, and she adjusts down her sleeves quickly, like she's been caught out. Were they having sex? I thought he was hungry.

"Just a moment, Miss Steele," he says, holding a finger up to me while he says something in a low voice to her.

She appears so much younger when she listens, nodding. She lifts up her hand to tuck another strand behind her ear again, her sleeve dropping down over her slender wrist. I see that bandage again, only this time I think it's streaked red. Is she bleeding? Did he finally notice it? I think he's concerned or something. He's apologizing to her, so he must have noticed it, didn't he?

He reaches into his trouser pocket, and it's his wallet. I watch as he takes out a lot of money, like a wad full of cash, and he hands it to her. She smiles down at him, beaming happily, then pockets it, tucking her hair behind her ear again. Wow, is he paying her for sex? She's a prostitute? Seems that way to me.

Rising from his chair, I notice how less lethargic he seems, how more graceful and easier he can move again. He's better. Whatever she did, he's better now. He walks with her towards me, and I push back, leaning flat against the door so that she can walk through.

"Eat or drink something," I hear him say to her sternly. "You know what happened before. Don't let it happen again." I remember her fainting that time when I first started here, how she'd come out of his office, pale, on the verge of passing out. Is that what he means?

He stands right near me at the entryway where I am, still pushed up against the wood of his door, holding it wide open. His elbow brushes against me as he tucks his hand in his trouser pocket, staring after this Leila woman, watching her leave. I look at the side of his face, how fuller he now looks, redder in the cheeks, his lips a brighter color than they were minutes ago before Miss Williams went in. I don't understand at all? He's obviously paying her for sex, yet he was hungry before. He called her in for lunch? Lunch cannot equate with sex, can it?

I clear my throat gently, shortly, trying to get his attention from where I'm standing. He turns, peering at me. He definitely looks a lot better. I don't get it at all.

"I'm sorry about that, Miss Steele," he says, and he brings up a hand, running his fingers through his hair. "I feel much better now. Please." He waves towards his desk, the lamp still on; the only thing providing a source of light since his blinds are still shut. "Were you able to get all of the signed letters into their envelopes?"

"Yes, I did. All of them."

"Excellent. And you handed them back to Andrea?"

"I did. I'm assuming she'll send them off soon." I push off the door slowly, glancing at his office chair. I don't know what to think. I know it would be unethical to ask or comment about it, but I feel the need to. "You paid her? Miss Williams?"

He seems wary as he sinks back down into his office chair. He leans an elbow on the arm of it, stroking around his chin as he holds my gaze, his eyes seeming so much brighter, the whites of them. "I did."

"For sex?" I can't help it, despite knowing it's none of my business. It's just very unprofessional, having hookers come into his office, particularly when he said he was hungry and his stomach certainly said as much as well. "I hear that's something you do often, anyway? Having women in your office for lunch?"

"For lunch, yes," he says tightly. I notice he doesn't call it sex. What? Is lunch a euphemism for sex in his eyes? Some sort of secret code-word he and Andrea has together?

I don't know why it bothers me so much, but it does. Even although it shouldn't, even although it's not my business. I'm sure a lot of bosses are sleazy. Why should he be any different? It's just... disappointing. I was hoping he was different for some reason.

He clears his throat loudly, gesturing behind me. "Over there, right behind you, is a folder with a style guide. Bring it to me, please." Obediently, I find it, carrying it towards his desk. It's rather heavy. "Andrea gave me a few copies of your edits for email and letter correspondence. They weren't too bad. There are just a few minor things I need to explain to you about protocol on how we do all of our letters and emails around here."

I bring the folder around his desk and he takes it from me while I stand behind him nervously. He lays it on his desk, opening it, shuffling through pages until he finds an example of letter and email correspondence from a few years ago.

"If you ask Andrea, you'll see on our database the letterheads and all that for the letter correspondence," he explains, glancing behind his shoulder at me. I move closer, peering down to see. "There's also a copy of the style guide. It would be best if you located it on the main drive and read through it. It explains font size and all of that." When I meet his gaze, I see his eyes are on me, on my neck as I bend slightly. He licks his lips, something there in his grey eyes. "Other than that, the copies Andrea showed me were great. Your punctuation and grammar are good, and your editing is wonderful, also. It is just those few things that you need to get down to a fine art."

"Yes, sir."

"Consistency is one of the most important things, after all," he murmurs, and when I glance at him again while biting my lip, I see his eyes are still glued to the side of my throat, my neck. Why? What's so appealing about my neck to him? I noticed him doing that very same thing in the elevator last night when he walked me out. "It's all about... consistency as a-" He pauses, licking his lips again, the muscles in his jaw straining, his throat twitching. "As a visual representation, consistency is important. Every letterhead the same, every... font style, Miss Steele."

When I glance at him again, I see he's closed his eyes tightly. He appears so strained, like he's... holding back? From what? I definitely sense a sexual tension there, even although I'm not the most experienced person when it comes to this. It's almost powerful, always there between us. I feel like he's struggling to keep himself under control, like I'm affecting him that much. I still don't know how I feel about him having hookers in every day though, even if he said it was for "lunch".

"Get out," he breathes suddenly, rudely.

I feel my face drain of color in shock. "Excuse me?"

"There is nothing else I need from you in here today," he says quickly, and he waves an arm at me impolitely like I'm an insect he's swatting away. How rude. "No doubt, Andrea has more she'll need from you. She'll have more things for you to do. Just leave me in peace."

"Um, okay?" What? How confusing.

Offended, I go to grab the folder, to put it back, yet he shushes me away again. "Just leave it, Miss Steele. Out!" he commands loudly, the first time I've really even heard him raise his voice.

I don't need to be told twice. Reaching down before I forget, I grab my handbag from under the chair, hurrying out of his office. How can he be so rude all of a sudden? I know Andrea assured me that he wasn't exactly a morning person but still. His mood swings are so strange. Why be nice, commending me on my work so far as far as email correspondence and letters go, only to kick me out? I can't help wondering if he'll escort me out to my car again after work tonight. I kind of don't want him to, because he was really rude. I just don't understand him at all. He's a sheer mystery to me.

* * *

Hope you enjoyed this one? Hope its getting a bit more interesting for you? Things will be revealed soon, Ana is just really confused and startled by everything Grey does. :) Love to know what you think! Hope I am doing okay with building tension and the mystery?


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

Once the day is over, I tuck in my chair and make sure my desk and working area is completely clean and orderly while Andrea does the same. We head towards the staff kitchen together, talking pleasantly about our plans for the night while I wipe down the staff lunch table, making sure it's clean, because someone left tomato sauce on it and never bothered cleaning it up themselves.

"Oh, that's my phone," Andrea yelps, grabbing her phone out of her bag. She checks it, then smiles at me. "Better head off. My dad's waiting for me downstairs. You'll be okay shutting off all the lights, won't you?"

"Um, of course." I force a smile as she leaves, then breathe deeply through my nose.

I hope I don't come across Mr Grey when I shut off all the lights and leave. After how rude he was, shouting at me and treating me like I was nothing more than someone he could easily get rid of, I really don't want to have to be near him.

Moving out of the staff area and clicking off the light, i go around, shutting off everything else. Then, apparently luck is not on my side tonight, because I hear a noise and there he is, my boss, striding out from his office fluidly.

"Miss Steele," he calls meaningfully, and I shut my eyes, exhaling in irritation. Damn it. He beckons for me to follow him with his hand as he heads towards the door. I do reluctantly, and then he shuts off all the lights, locking all the doors securely. "I'll walk you out and see you safely to your car," he mutters, as we wait for the elevator together, and I notice there's no asking or request in his tone. It's a demand, like I have no choice in the matter.

"Please, Mr Grey. You... you already did that once before," I remind him, trying to protest as nicely as possible. "I think we've both established that I'm safe going downstairs to my car on my own. I think I can manage." I really do not want to have to be around him right now, but he's persistent on getting his own way evidently.

"Well, I insist," he demands, ignoring me. Finally, the doors open to the elevator and we step in together. "Every young woman should be chaperoned, after all." For a second there, I wonder if I've imagined him saying that. Chaperoned. I've heard the term in a few classic novels, particularly some of my favorites. To hear someone say it nowadays, it almost makes me laugh.

"Chaperoned?" I repeat, too amused for my own good. "Isn't that a little... 20th century and outdated?"

"Perhaps, you'e right. Maybe it is, but... still I insist."

But that urge to fully laugh leaves pretty quickly when I remember how rude he was. I don't understand his behavior at all. "Can I ask you something, Sir?" I begin anxiously.

He turns to look at me from where he is, furthest away from me, on the opposite side of the wall. He raises an eyebrow at me. "Yes, Miss Steele?"

"Um, today in the... morning, you seemed really mad at me? Like you were annoyed with something I did or my work performance even?"

"Yes, and I apologize about that." He presses his lips into a thin line. I wasn't expecting him to apologize so easily. "It wasn't anything you'd done personally yourself, Miss Steele. It had no reflection on your work performance, either."

"Oh, okay." I feel a bit better then.

"Your performance is fine." He doesn't elaborate. It really doesn't explain his weird behavior. When I glance his way again quickly, I notice his chin is dipped low, his eyes inspecting my hands curiously. Why? What for? "How is it?" he asks, his gray eyes narrowing.

I peer down at my own hands in confusion, stopping my nervous tick of playing with my fingers self-consciously. "How is what?"

"Your wrist." Oh, he's talking about the incident this morning. How he practically cornered me up against the wall, grabbing my wrist. I turn it over, inspecting it. It doesn't hurt at all, so I'm assuming its fine. He gives out a loud hiss through his teeth and what I glance up again, I'm disturbed by how ashamed he looks, how seriously sorry. "I am truly sorry about that. Sometimes I... lose myself."

I give him a tentative smile. "It's okay. It's fine."

Finally, we reach the garage floor. He follows me out towards where my car is parked, but I get the sense he is still beating himself up over it.

"I'll need you to come into my office again tomorrow," he says, again like a demand. But after him yelling at me to get out, I thought he'd decided against that?

"Oh, okay. Sure."

We stop by my car and as I turn to look at him awkwardly, I think he's staring at my mouth and my lips. Unless I'm imagining it. It's a strange, hard look, almost as if he is willing himself not to do something. Why do I get the impression he wants to kiss me?

And why do I find myself wishing he would?

But then his gray eyes drop to my throat as I swallow, and he says, "Drive safely, won't you?"

"I will, Sir. I always do."

I sense him still watching me as I unlock my car. As I get in, shutting it, I turn to smile at him through the window politely.

And, holy crap, he's gone, as if he's just suddenly disappeared.

What the hell is with his little vanishing acts?

xx

That night, I have another one of those weird dreams again, except it's clearer this time. This time, I can make more sense of it, it's more vivid and I see faces and recognize people this time.

 _Obviously, it is the day I am to be married. In a bride's room in a church- my wedding day. In a church where I could not say, but it's obviously I am the one to be married. Dressed in a bridal gown, a long white magnificent puffed sleeved gown, with a train of pure silk trailing behind me, a tight fitting bodice trimmed with white lace and pearl beads._

 _And oddly enough, Kate's there too. Kate, looking old fashioned in a soft blue silk bridesmaids gown, helping me properly dress._

 _"You look so elegant, Anastasia!" Kate enthused, and as I looked in a looking-mirror, the dream me did look elegant, yet strangely old-fashioned, like I was in the 1900's, in a Wuthering Heights Jane-Eyre era in the classic literature books I like reading so much. My dark hair swept up elegantly, and held in place by pearl-studded pins. "When he sees you, he'll fall in love with you all over again! I know he will!"_

 _And then there's a knock, and as we both turn, three other friends from school that I can't remember the name of are there, dressed in a similar bridesmaid dress like Kate's. They all fuss around me, making certain I don't have too serious pre-wedding nerves._

 _Then my mother, Carla, entered the room next. She removed a pair of earrings she always wore, ones she wore to the wedding of my father that died when I was young in a marine accident. "Something old but precious," she said as she helped slip them in my ears. "Something I wore to my wedding with your father. He'd love to see you now!"_

 _We hear a noise from outside, an automobile pulling up._

 _"Go, my beautiful girl," my mother cries. "Go and be married! We'll be right behind you!"_

 _My bridesmaid and mother followed me as we all rushed outside. Two cars were waiting; One for me, one for them._

 _The driver got out, helping me inside while my mother helped lift up my long train on my gown. Then with an emotional smile, the driver got back inside, starting the car. I turned, watching Kate and my mother, of all people, getting into the car behind me._

 _I pulled down the veil on top of my head, shielding my face. And then it happened, while we were driving. A weird banging noise, like an explosion, as though the car was backfiring. And then there were fumes of thick black smoke coming out of the engine, and then, just as suddenly, there was a scream from ahead of me as the car stalled._

 _The driver was screaming in horrifyingly pained tones as he cried out. I realized the dream had gone from pleasant, to one of a horror movie. He was on fire, engulfed in orange hot flames, struggling in the drivers seat._

 _Trying to not breathe in the smoke, but filled with panic, I'd tried to open the car door, only to find it was locked. Choking. I started choking, not being able to breathe as the smoke filled the space in the car, the smell of burnt pungent flesh from the poor driver. Warm, so warm. The flames coming closer, beginning to burn through the seats exterior separating me from the driver._

 _Banging on the car door desperately for help, screaming._

 _The heat so warm it started causing condensation to roll down the windows. And then, that man's voice from before, the other dream, crying out to me. Panicked and frightened._

 _Suddenly, a hand slapped on the window where I was, stuck inside, and as I peered out through the heavy fumes and condensation, my eyes met the grayest, familiar panicked and wide eyes as they peered in back at me. The man seemed utterly helpless, yet desperate to help me, banging on the hot glass, screaming out my name._

 _Dapper and dressed in a dark blue coat from what I could make out of the man in the dream, a top hat to protect himself from the early morning rays. As he started trying to break the glass while muttering my name loudly over and over, like a desperate prayer, that was when the fire finally touched me, licking a piece of my dress. And then, trailing up and over the train. I'd let out a scream of agony as the flame and heat touched my skin, burning me alive at last, as I'd peered back at that man through the glass one last time._

 _He'd stared back at me, a haunting look of grief on his face as he stared at me, being burnt alive, powerless to do anything but watch. And in that second of the dream, I'd mentally connected who he was, while still sleeping. Looking a little different, a little more period drama costumed but with those same bright gray eyes, was my boss..._

 _My boss, Christian Grey. And his face was so hauntingly depressed and passionate, as if he was watching his dearly loved wife-to-be being burnt alive right in front of him._

 _As if I was his dearly beloved wife-to-be..._

I wake up suddenly, mid-scream like I had the other dream before, gasping for breath and sweating. I sit up against the headboard for a few minutes in the dark of my bedroom, trying to get over the shock of being thrust from one vivid reality into another. Trembling hard, I tuck my knees into my chest, holding a hand up against my warm, moist forehead, attempting to regulate my breathing.

This dream had definitely been different from the other one, where I'd been stuck in the car, suffocating on smoke while someone called out my name. This dream makes more sense, and definitely has more backstory to it. Getting married like I'm in an older time, my mom even there, Kate dressed as my bridesmaid. But what's weirdest of all, is that my boss plays main feature in it. We were obviously getting married, and then he'd known I was in danger by the fire, and he'd come to try help me, which he couldn't because he was far too late and I'd burnt to death anyway...

How strange, dreaming of my boss like that. Having a dream like that in general.

I think back to today, in the morning, being in the room with my boss, helping him. His odd reaction when he'd assumed I was about to open the blinds. Instinctively, I rub over the wrist carefully that he grabbed, it feeling tender and bruised by his fingers already. How rude and abrupt he was, demanding I leave right away, shouting at me almost. How his stomach kept making the oddest growling noises; Inhumane hungry noises, even. I'd never heard someone's stomach make such a noise before, until I'd heard it that morning in my bosses office alone with him.

He was so rude, how he'd dismissed me from his office this morning. I cannot get over it, even if he apologized and acted truly remorseful when walking me to my car again. And how stupid was I, assuming he wanted to kiss me? And what's more, that I even wanted him to?

xx

When I get into work the next morning, Andrea gives me a few things to pass to Mr Grey to sign.

It starts off like the day before pretty much; Me, entering his dark office, him switching on the lamp so I can see. Then a silence passing between us as he signs his signature on the dotted line of some letters while I envelop them. And just like yesterday, I'm too slow. He finishes earlier than I do, so he stands, moving around the table, helping me put them into envelopes.

I cannot even meet his eyes directly without getting flashbacks of my weird dream last night.

"Do you have any plans for this approaching weekend, Miss Steele?" he asks me, surprising me. I turn to glance his way while licking the seal of an envelope, flushing when his gray gaze meets mine directly.

I can't imagine why he'd want to know that? Unless he's just trying to be a friendly boss. "Um, nothing as yet, Sir. What about you?"

"Actually, I have two tickets booked for the theater on this Saturday evening. There's a live show playing."

"Oh. Good for you."

"It's Dracula," he explains further, probably just to make conversation. "The seats are very good. Right in the center, close to the front... Perfect view."

Um, okay? And where's he going with this?

"Actually, I was wondering if perhaps you'd like to see it with me?"

I almost drop an envelope on the floor, I'm that shocked. He's asking me to see a live show of Dracula with him at the theater? My boss? Is that even appropriate?

"Oh, but... but your my boss?" I stammer, thrown. I wasn't expecting him to ask me out at all.

"Well, regardless of whether I'm your boss or not, Miss Steele, I'd really..." He pauses for a moment and when I glance up at him, I notice those eyes of his are on my throat again. "Appreciate it if you could come with me," he finishes, eyes still glued to my neck, his voice dropping lower.

He's asking me out on a date? I cannot get over it. Kate's comments about him come back to me; His night philandering ways; How he always has women come into his office, which I'm assuming, is more for sex than what he calls it lunch. What if I'm stepping on someone's toes, like that Leila Williams girl who always seems to come here?"What about those women though?"

I make my mistake in glancing up at him. He's got an envelope in front of his mouth; He's licking the seal to make it sticky like I do. I feel myself flush at the sight of his rather long tongue as he blinks at me, baffled. "What about them?"

"Well, Miss Williams always seems to come here for 'lunch' with you?"

"That's nothing," he says with a dismissive shrug. He runs his forefinger along the envelope, making sure it's properly sealed, before placing it in the pile. "Have you even seen a live production before?"

"Um, no, I haven't.

"Then come," he says, very persuasively, and our fingers brush as we both go to grab another envelope at the same time. I cannot get over how cold his fingers still are. "I have a feeling you'd enjoy the experience and, no doubt, I'd certainly enjoy it more if... I had someone there to attend with."

"Um, okay," I murmur before I even know what I'm saying. I watch as he smiles at my words, the first time I think I've really seen my boss properly smile. I notice, again, how elongated his canines are, but I'm unsure whether it's just a trick of the lamp light in his office or not. His smile, it does strange things to my heart. "Then yes, I would love to go with you."

God what am I doing? What am I getting myself into?

* * *

Hope you're still interested? Sorry for being away, I've been really busy with my child starting school. The dream Ana has is a hint to her and Christian's past together, but I'll let you decide for yourself what you think of it :D


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

Just as I'm floating on a deliriously happy cloud over him asking me out on a date, Mr Grey brings me back down to earth brutally.

"Miss Steele, could you go check with Andrea on what my schedule is for the day?" His tone has gone weird again. Forceful, as if our light conversation barely minutes ago hadn't even happened.

"Oh." I glance over at him, halfway through folding a piece of paper to shove into another envelope. "After I've finished, um, all of... this?"

"Now, preferably."

"Oh. Okay." With a forced smile, I go to leave the room, taking my bag with me. Andrea's behind the desk, tapping furiously on her computer. She looks up at me questioningly while still typing.

"Hey. Everything okay?"

"Um, yes, but... Mr Grey wanted me to check on what his schedule is for the day?"

She glances down for a moment, leaving me awkwardly standing there while she shuffles through the multiple papers on her desk. Clearly she's a little out of sorts this morning; Usually her desk is more orderly. "Uh-huh. Here," she mutters, handing me a piece of paper. "Here's Mr Grey's full schedule for the day."

The phone rings suddenly and she answers it, just as quickly, putting on her polite yet professional phone voice. I guess that's my cue to leave. Making sure my shirt is still tucked in neatly beneath my skirt, I approach his office again with the paper listing of his schedule that Andrea gave me, knocking once before striding back in, my bag hanging off my arm by the strap.

I pause in shock, surprised. Wow, he must work fast. It's impressive.

Mr Grey is no longer putting the letters in the envelopes anymore. Apparently it took him less than two minutes to do it all himself; There, they sit, in a neat, thick stacked pile on his desk. He sits behind his office chair, going through some notes. Obviously my work here in helping envelope the signed copies is done.

I clear my throat awkwardly. "Um, Mr Grey, Andrea gave me this with your day's schedule on it."

He finally glances up, his captivating gaze roaming down my clothes. Then he lifts his hand, gesturing for me to come closer. "Yes, thank you." He holds out his hand and he snatches it from me, reading through it quickly. I stand around again, just as awkwardly as I did with Andrea, playing with my fingers. I still cannot believe he actually asked me out on Saturday but, obviously, it isn't as big a deal for him as it is for me. "Yes, can you advise Andrea to rearrange my schedule, Miss Steele," he suggests, drawing something on the list with his pen swiftly. "Tell her to call all of those attending eleven o'clocks meeting and notify them that it's been changed to an hour later." His tone is very business-like as he hands the paper back to me. "Also, notify Andrea that I'll have my lunch in half an hour."

"Um, yes, Sir."

Obediently, I go to leave his office, then stop, peering back at him. Maybe it's a trick of the lights, but he definitely appears paler? I noticed yesterday, after his 'lunch' with Miss Williams, how brighter eyed and refreshed he looked afterwards. Is that what sex does to a man? Do I really want to get my hopes up and go out on Saturday with a man who constantly has quickies in his office?

Suddenly, he glances up again from his notes. I realize I'm just hanging around, being weird.

"Yes?" He raises his eyebrows at me. "Is there something else you wish to say, Miss Steele?"

"Um..." I strive to make something up, to save myself. "The time for Saturday?" I decide on quietly. "You never gave me a time on whether you'd... pick me up or if I was to meet you there? At the theater for the live production of Dracula?"

"Oh, of course," he breathes, eyes trailing down my skirt while he taps his pen on the desk. "We'll arrange that later today, perhaps... once I escort you to your car again."

"Okay then." I turn to leave with a nervous smile, heading out of his office. It's lucky I have good memory, because fortunately, I'm able to report back to Andrea everything he told me to say.

She doesn't appear too pleased when I tell her about him wanting to reschedule his meeting for later on and that he wants his lunch earlier than usual. I wonder why.

"Okay, so he wants his lunch earlier?" I almost feel sorry for Andrea as she rubs her temples with her fingertips, appearing stressed. "I'll make the call now and set everything up."

"You need any help with anything?" I ask her in concern, because I know she probably could do with some assistance.

"No, I'll be fine," she tells me reassuringly with a sigh.

I smile at her sympathetically, standing around. Then I get myself together, heading back to Mr Grey's office. I've really only been here a week and sometimes, I am not entirely sure what I am meant to do. I feel lost at times, but fortunately Mr Grey or Andrea hasn't complained over my work performance. My duties here just haven't been completely outlined.

I knock politely, then head back in again. I feel like a ferret scurrying around, back and forth.

"Excuse me, Sir," I speak up, once I reach the front of his desk. He lifts his gaze to look up at me again with his eyebrows raised. "Sorry for the interruption again, but I thought I would just tell you that I did as you requested. I informed Andrea of all of the changes."

"Very good, Miss Steele."

I blink at him through the lights, straining to see him well. It's really annoying with the lamp on. Doesn't he find it annoying himself?

"There," he says with an amused sigh, speaking to himself, I think. He slams his pen down on the desk. "Miss Steele, would you kindly read this yourself and see whether it makes sense? Maybe correct any grammar and punctuation issues while you're at it?"

"Yes, of course," I say, happy for something to do.

He swooshes the written note around so I can see it where I am, and I move closer towards the front of his desk, leaning both hands on the table, bending slightly to start reading. It all makes sense to me, the first four paragraphs. But then I begin to feel distracted, getting the impression that he's staring at me. When I bite my lip and lift my eyes quickly, I see that he is. His head is cocked to the side, his eyes inspecting my face attentively. Again, I wish I knew why he stares so much. Although again, Kate did say a man happens to stare a lot when he's attracted to a woman. Is he attracted to me? Is that why he asked me out on Saturday?

"How is it so far?" Mr Grey asks, and snapping back into it, I swallow, glancing down at his handwriting again.

"Um, it's good so far, Sir. No mistakes that I can see with the four paragraphs I've read." His writing reminds me of someone older, though. It's a weird observation to make, but... his writing style, the cursive loops, it reminds me of writing an older man would use. Not so much someone his age. Maybe I'm just weird? "You write very neatly," I murmur under my breath.

When I glance up at him again quickly, I see his eyes are squinted, his expression perplexed. "Do I?"

"You do," I admit with a laugh. Why am I even saying this? Why am I even complimenting him on his writing style?

I force myself to proofread again, all the while aware that he's looking at me. It's a relief when I'm done and I can move back.

"There's no errors, Mr Grey," I announce with a shy smile. Just as I expected, the instance I lift my eyes, he's still watching me, observing me, his head still slightly to the side. Somehow, I feel like I'm prey or something. I don't know where that thought comes from, but it's true. It's as if Mr Grey is a predator, sizing me up, evaluating me, and I'm his defenseless prey. Something he's working out how to latch on to. "Everything's written perfectly."

"Very good." He leans back in his chair at my words, satisfied. Then he lifts a hand, rubbing around his chin, tracing his bottom lip, his eyes still on me. They drop lower, to my hands. "How's the wrist now?"

Oh. When he grabbed at me yesterday. Honestly, I keep forgetting about that, because it doesn't hurt at all. He's so concerned about it. I turn it over, seeing the small reddish imprints his fingertips have left on my skin.

"Oh, it's fine. Really." I laugh it off, holding my wrist out to him. "It doesn't hurt at all. See?"

When I glance up at his face again, my stomach churns out of the sheer shock of it all. One minute, he's massaging his bottom lip with his forefinger. It goes into his mouth for the briefest second, and then a short wince of pain just as suddenly overcomes him. As he draws out his forefinger, shiny red blood dribbles from the tip of his index finger, spurting out profusely onto his desk. How the hell did that happen?

"Oh, my God, Mr Grey," I gasp out in shock, "Your fingers bleeding somehow! Can I get some-" And then it happens next.

I'm fluttering around, feeling sorry for him, and then he grabs my hand, his fingers overlapping over my wrist. His blood smears over the red, dull purple imprints- in a quick circular movement, he smears and rubs it into my skin with his cold thumb- and then he releases my hand, just as quickly. What the heck?

I peer down at him questioningly, my face going cold. "Why would you-?" I begin, startled, but then he cuts me off.

"Excuse me," he says, and he rises from his desk swiftly, plucking tissues out of the box near his desk. "I _am_ clean, I can assure you," he mutters quickly, and then, he grabs my hand again, but more delicately and gently this time. He wipes off the blood on the tissue, then uses it against his bleeding forefinger.

"C-clean?" I blab out, unnerved.

"Yes, clean." I notice he won't look at me as he frantically tries to stall the bleeding on his forefinger. "I get checked regularly."

As Mr Grey sends me off to the bathroom to wash myself thoroughly, I feel like I'm not even processing what I'm doing or where I'm going properly. I end up in the staff bathroom, holding my hands over the running faucet.

I peer down at my wrist, slightly red from the stain of his blood. I have no idea what just happened. Mr Grey wasn't even holding anything sharp, I'm sure he wasn't. So how did he start bleeding? How did this even happen? And why grab my hand and smear his blood over me? Isn't that sort of... dangerous and a harmful way to spread any blood borne diseases, even if he did say he is clean? It's so confusing.

Shaking my head, finally I submerge both hands beneath the water, then scrub myself vigorously with soap. Once I'm done, I pat my hands dry on paper towel, then glance down at my wrist again. It's clear of blood, but that isn't what freaks me out. It's the fact that it's mysteriously vanished.

Those imprints, those faint bruise spots from where he had grabbed at me. They're gone. How?

Something is not right at all. I had that feeling before, and it's returned again.

Something is not right with my boss. There's something... strange about him. Magnifying in all the ways he stares at me, yet... strange.

What the hell is with him?

I try to regulate my breathing as I stride back down the hallway towards his office. I knock once, before heading back in. Only to be greeted with an empty room...

What? Where did he go? He's not at his desk anymore?

But then I hear him outside. His voice.

"Thank you for coming in early."

"Of course." Leila. She's here already.

Without thinking, I dart towards his desk in a panic. Getting down on my knees, I crawl beneath it. That's when the door closes as they talk to each other, and I realize the situation I'm in. Crap, I'm here, hiding beneath his desk while they have 'lunch' together. What am I doing? I know I should make myself known before it gets too late but...

"Have you eaten?" Mr Grey asks with concern.

"I did. I had a big breakfast this morning."

"Oh? And what did you eat?"

"Oats with apple slices."

"Good girl."

My heart is racing as I listen to them. Shit, what am I doing? Seriously?

"Stand over by the wall." Mr Grey's voice turns different. Harder, bossier.

She moves and then I see them. I get a front row view from where I am, hidden beneath his desk, crouching by his chair. Opposite me, I see her thin legs, swamped by baggy track pants. And then his legs as he moves to stand behind her. He slips a polished shoe between her legs, prodding her shoes, telling her silently to move them apart. And she does.

I wait for it, listening for the sign of him pulling down his zipper. Is he going to take her from behind today? Anal?

I lift my head, hoping to see better. My scalp touches the bottom of the desk, and I wince, clasping both hands tightly around my mouth so I'm only just breathing through my nose. If they see me, it'd be mortifying. It would be so embarrassing. I can see them better, at least. Mr Grey stands behind her, while Leila rests two hands against the wall, supporting herself. I can only see their backs, the fabric of Mr Grey's white business shirt straining.

And then he lifts up both hands, grabbing the strands of her limp dark hair, pushing it away gently to one side. And then he bends his head down towards her exposed neck, her throat.

I'm not sure what to think next.

She makes a weird, strangled noise, her legs and knees shaking. And then there's wet, slurping sounds. Not exactly kissing sounds, like he's passionately kissing her neck, but...

"What took you..." Mr Grey murmurs, and his voice sounds weirdly different. Huskier, throatier, darker. "What took you so long to find me?"

"Hmm?" Miss Williams moans, her voice drugged out, thick. I'm not even sure if he's talking to her or not or what he even means.

My eyes are wide on them, my hands that are clasped tightly around my mouth trembling.

"Oh, shit..." Miss Williams starts breathing loudly, her voice sounding like she's in pain. "Oh... fuck, that's right."

I should not be watching this at all.

He reaches up, Mr Grey's other hand grabbing her dark hair, curling his fingers through the strands. He gives a rough jerk, and she makes a low whimpering noise as her head lifts up higher. He moves in closer, both legs standing between hers. Her knees buckle and shake again as a guttural, animal sound escapes from either one of them; Something I haven't heard come from a human before. It's almost like a rattling, scary growling noise. Like a dog almost.

"Oh, yeah," Miss Williams pants. "That's it! Right in there real... deep like! Oh!"

They're not even having sex. I'm a hundred percent sure they aren't doing the deed. They have their clothes on, and he hasn't undone his trousers. She's still wearing her track pants.

And then she starts crying; A desperate, despairing sobbing noise of pain.

"Ow," she cries, and my heart aches in sadness for her. What is he doing to her? Why is he hurting her now? I had no idea he was like that. I had no idea my boss was some sort of strange... rapist or something? "Ow, shit. No, no, please." And then, just as suddenly, she's giggling. A crazy, delirious giggle comes from Miss Williams.

And then, it's over. Mr Grey leans back while clasping his hands over her thin forearms, taking her with him. As he turns her around, I see she's smiling, in a drugged-out, hysterical way. But her eyes are wet too, like she was crying as well.

"Are you alright?" Mr Grey asks softly and, because I can see the side view, I get a clearer vision. I try to remain as still as possible, my eyes going wider, as he leans in again, putting his nose to where her neck is. Then I think I see him lick her, sucking her neck quickly. She laughs again, her shoulders arching like he's tickling her with his licking.

What the shit?

She's still breathing heavily, her chest heaving, as he reaches into his pocket. He grabs his wallet, removing out some cash, paying her again like he had last time.

She counts out the money, a surprised gasp leaving her. "You're paying me extra this time?" she whispers, pleased.

I watch very carefully as Mr Grey shoves his wallet back into his trouser pocket. Then one hand goes into his hair as he runs his fingers through it, the other, he uses his fingertips to trace around his mouth, as if he's rubbing something off. Then he pops those fingers into his mouth, sucking loudly, noisily. Like he's savoring a meal.

"Your bloods like a fine wine," he says, and it's then I get it.

Holy shit. Holy crap! Her blood! Her blood!

He was tasting her blood?

What is he? Some sort of... vampire that feeds on blood?

Suddenly, his odd euphemism for 'lunch' makes sense.

Seriously, what the hell?

I swallow back a disturbed gasp as he then shows her out, their voices quiet. As she leaves, I consider getting up quickly, but then he's blocking the exit to his office. How the hell am I supposed to get out of this now? What am I supposed to do? He'll know I'm down here!

My fingers are shaking, my entire body is shaking, as I regain the courage to move. Slowly, I try to creep out from under the desk, on my knees, the carpet scratching me through my stockings. And then I faintly hear his office door closing gently, and as I peer up, wide-eyed, heart hammering, scrambling ungraciously on my knees, I feel all the air leave my lungs.

"Oh, Miss Steele," Mr Grey says above me, tutting, yet there's both warmth and amusement in his tone. "My new employee as well as a voyeur? What am I going to do with you?"

Oh, crap.

* * *

Ana caught them in the act. Hope that's okay and that it isn't too early? Let me know.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

I'm pretty sure that this is the moment where he murders me and I die. Since I'm on my knees and he's standing over me, and I have nothing to defend myself with, I figure all I can do is lie there passively while my boss drains me of my blood or something. Shutting my eyes, I try to cover my arms over my head, shielding myself. My body shakes ruthlessly as I wait for it.

And it... never... comes. Huh?

Slowly finding my courage, I drop my arms, leaning back on my knees as I peer up at him, my face drained of all blood in shock, breathing unsteady. My boss, Mr Grey, just stands there right next to me, staring down at me, blinking slowly. There's something like both concern and amusement in his eyes. I don't understand... at all.

"Are you going to kill me now?" I force myself to breathe out, my voice shaking both in fear and trepidation. How easy I can seem to manage to ask about my own impending death... "Now that I've just witnessed and worked out your little, um, 'secret', are you going to kill me and... and drain my entire body of blood?"

"Kill you and drain your-" he begins to repeat in a slow, bewildered voice, then he stops. I can't help flinching as he bends down, crouching near me. I must fail in not being successful in hiding my flinches of fear because his eyes widen, and he lifts up both hands, showing me his palms and fingers, as if he's gesturing that he means me no harm. "Miss Steele, whatever you think, I'm not going to hurt you, I assure you." He speaks the words slowly and softly, as if I'm a child that needs comforting.

But should I believe him? How do I know he's telling me the truth? And what he is? Obviously, he's some sort of... of... vampire considering he ingested Miss Williams's blood? Is that 'lunch' to him? Feeding off women's blood?

How can it be real? How can vampires even truly exist?

My boss is a vampire? My head is finding it so difficult to process this. There's so many emotions in me all at once. Disbelief, fear, shock. A vampire? He's a vampire?

"What are you?" I demand shakily, even although I think I already know. It will just seem more real if he confirms it.

Mr Grey stares at me for a moment, blinking twice. Then he sighs through parted lips, shaking his head slightly. He runs his hands through his hair, his expression changing to... exasperation? I'm exasperating him? "We both know that you already know the answer to that."

"Vampire?" I whisper, trying not to make a face. It's hard to say it with a straight face.

"Yes. Upir or... vampire, yes."

My first instinct is to refuse to accept it, even although the evidence is basically there in front of me. How can this be possible? "So vampires are real and they're not just some... mystical creature out of a story tale?" I can't hide the skepticism in my tone. "Vampires exist and you're one? The... the man that employed me as an assistant is a vampire?"

He blinks a few more times as he stares at me, as if considering how to answer. "Essentially, yes. Your boss, the very man that hired you, the... man that employed you to be his assistant is... a vampire, yes."

"And does... does anyone else here know about this?" I cannot wrap my head around it.

"No one, but... a rare select few that I trust. Andrea, for instance, knows." Andrea knows! So Andrea knows Mr Grey is a vampire! Hmm, now it all suddenly seems to make sense. How protective she seems of him, and how she so readily contacts women like Leila Williams to come in for lunch without batting an eyelid.

"And Miss Williams, you... you pay her for blood? That's your whole 'lunch' thing?"

"Yes, there's a service that caters for that. Miss Williams, as well as a few others, provide... services for that sort of thing."

"And you pay them in order to drink their blood?" I ask slowly. I don't know why I find it relevant to ask that when, obviously, he does. But talking it over helps.

"Yes."

I think I'm going into shock. I'm numb. But it all makes sense somewhat. now, if I push aside that little voice inside my head that's doubtful. No wonder the blinds are always closed inside his office then. No wonder his severe reaction when he assumed I was going to open the blinds that time. And the cold hands! The... stomach gurgling noises whenever he's around me! He isn't hungry for food, it's... being near me because he probably hasn't fed on blood for his 'lunch' yet.

When I met his gaze again briefly, I see he's watching me, very intently. Almost anxiously.

"So, um... how are you able to be out during the day? I mean, how are you awake right now?" I'm consulting all that I've learned about vampires, of course. I don't know what's true and what isn't obviously.

"How am I able to go out during the day? Simple answer, is that I... I don't," he answers with a shrug. "I come into work just before the daylight hours and sunrise arrive, either around 5.00 or 6.00 in the morning. I never leave my office during daylight hours."

"But how do you... leave when you have board meetings?" He'd have to have board meetings, right? How can he leave his office?

"Well, that's the thing. I don't leave during board meetings." He jerks his chin towards the large space in his office. "I have them in here. No one is, I suppose I should say, brave enough to question why the blinds are always closed during meetings. If they did, they'd risk... termination of their contract or profit loses. I have the power to do that, in the position that I'm in."

"Oh," I breathe in understanding. I guess that sort of makes sense then. "But I thought that... vampires were meant to sleep during the day? Isn't that like... what they do?"

"I get fatigued, of course. But... having lunch at noon seems to help fight it."

"And you don't have sex with them at all?" The question comes out before I can stop it. "I mean, Miss Williams and all the others?"

I think I'm slowly regaining feeling. I feel my cheeks go warm at the idiotic question that escapes me. When I peek up at him again tentatively, I see he's smiling a tight-lipped smile as he peers down at his hands in front of him, crisscrossing his long fingers together.

"No, I don't... have sex with them, Miss Steele. It's unnecessary."

"Unnecessary?"

"Yes, and I only need to consume a little bit of blood." I can tell he's trying not to laugh at me. He clears his throat gruffly, as if to stifle down a snicker. "When I bite into her, Miss Williams, another client, whoever it may be at the time..." He pauses, clearing his throat roughly again. There's a faraway, distant look in his bright gray eyes, "all she feels is... ecstasy. I get her... warmed up, so to speak. All she feels is my light caresses, my... my kisses." My body goes weird at his words. Warm, tingly. It's hard to maintain eye contact with the way his voice sounds; Warm, sensual. "Blood tastes at its best when the... the person I'm biting is aroused. Arousal makes the blood more... fragrant so to speak. Arousal becomes easy, to the point where... when I finally sense the right moment, she's lost in ecstasy. She can't feel my bite or me... drinking her blood." Finally, he meets my gaze again, and it takes everything I have not to glance down shyly. "The... ecstasy becomes so intense it makes her utterly numb."

Well, I guess that's good to know. These women aren't in pain, although Leila did sound as though he was really hurting her.

"There's something about biting into a woman, caressing her..." He shakes his head, and I realize he's staring down at my neck, at where my pulse point probably is. It's unnerving yet... hot as well, somehow. How scorching intense he looks. "They always orgasm rather quickly. I suppose the combined pain and pleasure releases dopamine. The body becomes sensitive, erogenous..."

Suddenly, he clenches his eyes closed tightly, shaking his head a little. It's like he's scolding himself.

"I wish I hadn't delved into speaking about this right now," he murmurs, troubled. His throat twitches as he swallows loudly. "Speaking about this with you... having you in here, alone..." Mr Grey swallows again before reopening his eyes, meeting mine again. "It's dangerously distracting."

"Dangerously distracting?" I repeat in alarm, my body tensing. "How so?"

He doesn't answer. Mr Grey rises fluidly to his feet, then he holds out his hand down to me. I'm hesitant to take it, no matter what he says.

I still cannot believe it. Vampire! A vampire!

"I meant what I said, Miss Steele, and I'm not one to go back on my word. I won't hurt you."

I lift my gaze, peering up into his eyes nervously, still uncertain. He looks so sincere, so desperate. Against better judgment, I give in. I take his hand, his fingers much cooler than mine, and he helps lift me up. I lean my hip against his desk for support, shock overcoming me again.

"You say you trust someone like... Andrea with your secret? You've known her for long?"

Mr Grey stares at me for a moment. I can tell he's trying to work out where I'm going with this. "Yes."

"And how do you know you can trust me with your secret?" I ask, even though I know I shouldn't be. I should be thankful that he's not draining me of blood right now, yet here I am, taunting him somewhat? "You only hired me a week ago, and you don't know me all that well?"

"I know I can trust you."

"But how?" I ask brazenly. "How do you know that?"

"I know because I know you," he says as he cocks his head slightly to the side. He knows me? What, he's hired me only just last week and yet he feels he knows me and that I'm trustworthy enough with something so huge?

"You've only known me for one week at the most? You can't completely know someone in one week?"

"Well, I beg to disagree on that," he explains easily, "I know who you are, as a person. And as for roughly a whole week? I disagree on that also. I've happened to know you for far longer than that."

What? My stomach jolts at his words. He knows me for far longer than a week? Not possible. We've only just met. It doesn't make any sense whatsoever.

"You must have me mistaken for someone else then," I mutter uneasily. "I don't know you."

He looks as if he wants to disagree again, but he lets it go. He shrugs. "I've decided to trust you, no matter what you say."

"It's a big risk your taking?"

"I read your application and went through your resume," he says, running his hand through his hair. "In doing that, reading closely between the lines, I think I know a lot more about you than you'd think. You'd be surprised how revealing a job application can be."

"How so?"

"Well, I know that you've struggled to find employment ever since you graduated. That's been-what? Four to five months unemployed?"

"That's true," I agree curtly. He's right, and I did. I was so relieved and happy when he'd suddenly announced I was hired for a job, despite my somewhat lack of experience, especially seeing as the job market is hard these days. And poor Kate; Even she's still struggling to get a foot in the door. It really takes a blow on your self esteem. "I was unemployed for four months. It was horrible."

"You wouldn't want to compromise your job," he adds, and his tone has changed. There's something unsettling in it; Something I haven't heard from Mr Grey's voice before. Something almost hard and ruthless. Biting. "You experienced what it was like, being unemployed recently. You... experienced how difficult it is, breaking through into the job market. These economic times are hard." He's trying to make a point of it, but I'm not sure what he's trying to say exactly.

"What are you saying?" I murmur nervously.

"What I'm simply trying to say, is that... I hired you, Miss Steele. When I saw you, I... decided to give you the benefit of the doubt despite your obvious lack of experience and expertise. It was my decision to give you a fair go, and only mine alone. Other bosses perhaps wouldn't be as... kind."

"I know that," I point out. "And like I hope you know, I am thankful for this opportunity and the chance you've given me to work here for you, Mr Grey. I'm not-"

"-And that's how I know for certain that I can trust you," he clarifies firmly, cutting me off. "You've experienced hardship in successfully gaining employment. Other employers notice your lack of expertise, of ability in the roles you apply for. Others wouldn't take a second glimpse at your resume and your application."

It hurts and it's brutally honest, what he is telling me. Painful, but true. Why is he saying this though?

His gray eyes glaze over, with a certain hardness, meanness. For once, Mr Grey definitely looks vampiric. "At any point, I could decide to let you go, just like that. One slip of the tongue, one wrong move and..." He clicks his fingers swiftly, making his point. "It would completely ruin your chances, don't you think? What would other employers say when noticing your short employment at my company? I pull a lot of strings, Miss Steele. I know a lot of other business leaders and company owners. I'm very... influential, you could even say." Why do I get the feeling that he is threatening me?

"It sounds like your threatening me?" I point out tonelessly, my voice unsteady.

"No." He smiles, but it's a cold, detached one. "It's hardly meant to be a threat, Miss Steele. I am simply pointing out the obvious here. I gave you a chance here, and I was definite on that chance the second you stumbled in through my office for the interview and I smelled your bloody ankle and your torn stocking."

I swallow at his words, my mouth dry. It brings back memories of the interview, of how he seemed to notice I was bleeding. Now I know why; He must have keen senses and, naturally, he'd have smelled fresh blood for a mile away.

"This is how I know I can trust you, this is how I know you won't say a single word or disclose of my... condition to anyone. Your job, your wage, your... livelihood even, depends on it."

"Touche," I murmur, understanding him at once. "So you'd fire me if I ever even thought for one second about revealing your secret?"

"Exactly." I hold his gaze, my head reeling. I can definitely see the vampire in him now, in his clinical way of speaking, his unapologetic ruthlessness and vindictiveness. Isn't that what both a boss and vampire is? Ruthless, determined? Vindictive? "And, I also happen to know that you have a friend that's struggling to break into the employment market herself."

I feel my entire body stiffen up at his words.

Shit, how does he know about Kate even?

"I understand she's been very... frustrated and is losing hope in finding employment. Imagine if, say... someone were to tamper with her records? Perhaps put down a few little things like theft or... disloyalty? Who would wish to hire her even then?"

I shake my head at his words, incredulous. Why is he being so horrible all of a sudden?

"You wouldn't," I whisper pleadingly, meeting his gaze desperately."You wouldn't dare do that!"

"I wouldn't," he agrees once, nodding his head. The tension seems to leave me at his words, and I breathe out in relief. "So long as you remain trustworthy and don't reveal my condition to anyone, of course. Those rules stand for Andrea, as well. I can assure you I had the exact same conversation with her when I first employed her years ago."

"I won't tell anyone of your... your condition at all," I promise, my voice shaky with the ferocity of my promise. "I wouldn't."

He nods, pleased at my promise. "Of course, you won't. You value both not only your job, but your friend too much." He leans closer and I try not to show any outwards sign of nerves or fear as he leans down, his eyes bright and focused on mine deeply. He's put himself so close, he could easily bend down in one swoop and bite me. The thought of him doing that now that I know what he is... My heart hammers in my chest as I cross both arms protectively over my stomach instinctively, leaning back against his desk.

His eyes lower to the base of my throat again as I swallow against a dry lump. I have no doubt my neck muscles have twitched, that the tendons there have moved. My eyes flit down to his mouth, at how slightly parted it is, his teeth peeking through slightly. His teeth have the power to bite right through my skin, to open me. My boss has the power to suck me dry. I'm surprised he isn't drooling at the tendons in my neck.

I always had the tendency to feel like prey around him, or like he was someone unusual and different; someone who constantly made me keep my guard up around. Now I know why that is.

"Don't worry," he mutters, and my eyes move up to his again to find he's staring at my face. "I won't bite you, Miss Steele." He leans in somewhat closer, and my stomach lurches. I feel like I'm hyperventilating at his closeness, at how odd his voice has gone; How seductive, how low. "Yet." To emphasize the 'yet' statement, I guess, he finishes it off by opening his mouth, then closing it, shutting and snapping his teeth together loudly with an audible click.

As he moves away from me, I can feel myself shaking, but I'm not sure whether it's in a bad or good way. Without another word or glance at him, I dart out of his office, trying to keep my cool.

Holy crap.

* * *

A bit of a mean Christian in this one but he is just protecting himself and trying to make sure he has Ana's secrecy. he'll be possessive as well, and may even get Ana to be his main girl for 'lunch'. More will be revealed on their backstory and how he came to be vampire. hope you enjoyed. Let me know if you have any thoughts or wishes on what happens.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Chapter 9**_

By the time I slip back into my seat at the desk, I feel winded. But I believe it's the shock of the revelation over my boss as well as his very obvious threat that's a cause for it. I can't even seem to feel anything below the neck.

Andrea must notice something is up, because she pauses from her frantic keyboard writing to glance at me. "Jee, Ana. You look as if you've just seen a ghost?"

I don't know how I seem to find my voice but I manage somehow. "Yeah, well. That's not far from it," I mutter weakly.

"Are you okay?" she asks with concern. Then I hear her gasp. "Holy shit. He told you didn't he?" Her voice is low so we can't be overheard but I know immediately who she is hinting to.

"Yeah, he told me."

"Holy shit," she mutters again. "Wow. He's never told any new employees before."

"But _you_ already know?"

"Yeah. Still, he must really trust you." There's a hint of mean warning in her tone. 'Keep your mouth shut', her warning says between the lines. And, luckily for both Andrea and Mr Grey, I am all too happy to oblige. I won't be telling his secret to anyone- never in a million years. I wouldn't deliberately jeaopardize my job, after all. And not to mention let him tarnish Kate's name due to the power he clearly holds in the employment world.

 _But holy crap. Vampires exist in the world. And, lucky me, I had to go and land a job working for one..._

One that I think asked me out to see a live production of Dracula this Saturday. One that I also keep having strange reoccurring dreams of, revolving around him, a wedding, and a burning car.

Guess it makes a lot of sense though. It certainly explains a few things.

Like why the shutters in his office always tend to be drawn to block out the sun. Why he has a tendency to have women into his office for 'lunch'. Funny thing is, he _truly is_ having lunch with them. Well, more _like they're_ the lunch while he's snacking away on them.

Andrea says something, but I can't say I'm truly listening. It's a little hard to when I can't get over the fact that my boss feeds off human blood.

Not that any of those women, like Leila for instance, seemed to have truly minded. In fact, Miss Williams seemed to have really enjoyed the experience. She was certainly crying and moaning loud enough. I wonder if what he said was even true or if he was simply playing with me. About how apparently the blood tastes better when the person's aroused. Would it be really easy for him to arouse-

"Ana?" Andrea's raised voice startles me out of my deep thought.

I jolt in the chair, finally turning to blink at her. I realize she's staring straight at me, her brows furrowed. _Oops, had she been asking for my attention for long?_

"Um, I-I'm sorry, Andrea," I splutter, tossing my head. "What was that you were just saying?"

She sighs loudly, making it extremely clear on me that I'm frustrating her. "See those guys over there in the suits," she says, jerking her chin towards them. I look myself, noticing three men in matching business suits all sitting in the waiting area. "They are here for Mr Grey's 1.20 meeting. Can you go into his office and remind him of his schedule and the meeting, please?"

 _Oh. Go back into his office. Now that I've just learned something major about him? Great_. Dutifully, I rise from my chair, my feet a little numb and wobbly in my heels.

"Oh, and Ana?"

"Hmm?" I turn back to look at her while halfway towards his office.

"Let him know the men are here already."

"Um, okay. Sure, I can do that." I feel my stomach knot a little in apprehension as I approach his office door.

Why do I feel so nervous to even merely step inside his office right now? It isn't like I haven't been working beside him these past few days. Oh, but that was before I caught him feasting on Miss Williams's blood while she moaned like she was in a porno film. Not that I watch adult films, of course.

Sighing at myself in frustration, I run both damp hands down over the back of my skirt. I really do need to get myself together. I need to act normal. Lifting my hand, I knock against his door three times. Once I hear him give his assent to enter, I suck in a deep breath before opening the door.

I don't know why I am so surprised to find Mr Grey simply sitting behind his desk in his recliner chair as I tread slowly into the room. Jesus, what did I expect to see? Him hovering from the roof? Sleeping upside down like a bat? Jesus, what is wrong with me?

He raises his head to look at me and for some reason I feel suddenly too nervous to even simply meet his gaze. Instead, I find myself staring vacantly at the wall paper behind his desk. Or well, what little I can see of it in his darkened office area anyway.

"Is there something you need, Miss Steele?" His voice prompts me into remembering what I'm supposed to be doing.

"Um, yes, actually. Andrea told me to tell you that the business men from your..." I pause, flinching internally when he stands from his chair and begins to step slowly around his desk. I may be staring at the wallpaper next to him, but he's still in my peripheral vision enough to notice his every movement very clearly _. "_ Um, from your... ah, your 1.20..." _Oh, crap. He's walking towards me._ My heart hammers wildly in my chest as I focus on some boring spot on the wall behind his left shoulder. Swallowing dryly as he comes to stand barely a few inches away in front of me, I finish pathetically, "From y-your 1.20 meeting are already seated outside in the visiting area." I cringe. Did that even make any sense to him at all?

"Miss Steele," Mr Grey murmurs, and I swallow again nervously.

"Y-yes?"

" _Look_ at me." Ah, great.

Steeling myself, I breathe in deeply before doing as he requests. I flit my eyes reluctantly sideways, immediately meeting his gaze head-on. He's standing far closer than I expected. All he would have to simply do is lift both hands and he'd be touching the sides of my skirt. And hey, if he did, would I even be capable of stopping him?

"You're afraid of me now, aren't you?" he murmurs, something knowing and gentle in his voice. I think I see something similar to concern flicker in his expression. "You are afraid to even so much as look at me now, aren't you?"

"S-Sort of," I admit, deciding lying would be pointless.

"Well, you don't need to be frightened of me. I'm not going to hurt you- or bite you." The sincerity in his tone, the shimmering earnest grey eyes. It makes it impossible to doubt him. "At least not until I have your consent first."

"M-my consent?" I repeat, baffled. "To, um... hurt me?"

"Bite you," he corrects quickly, as if noticing his own error in words. "I meant I won't bite you _\- unless_ I have your consent."

My consent?

"Um, a-as I said, the men are here for your meeting already so..."

When I steal a brief look at his face momentarily, he seems a little disappointed. He swallows audibly while raising a hand to run it through his tousled hair. Then he steps back from me two inches, creating a sudden distance between us again. What? Did he expect me to suddenly quip back that he has my consent already? When he explained it to me before, how blood is apparently more fragrant when arousal happens, how the women orgasm quite quickly... it had sounded undeniably intriguing. But my consent?

"Fine then. Please tell the gentlemen that I'm ready to see them now, Miss Steele."

"Y-yes, sir." I can't deny I'm a little shaken up over what he just said, but I try to focus on my task at hand, my job. Which is walking out of his office and telling the men that he's ready for them now. Embarrassingly, I find my legs are every bit as wobbly as they were when I first came into his office, maybe even more. I feel almost in a serious state of shock, like I cannot even possess my body to move appropriately. But somehow, I manage to wobble out of his office to where all the men in their suits are waiting. "Mr G-Grey is ready to see you all in his office now," I manage, and I notice one of the men arching his eyebrows at me curiously. _Yeah, apparently he caught onto it too. My voice is too frail, too high-pitched. Not assertive at all._

I turn, showing the way back towards his office. I hold the door open for all the men to go inside- which I'm assuming is expected of me. Mr Grey greets them all confidently, shaking each of the men's hands. At least he seems confident and assertive right now, unlike me. You wouldn't know anything had just happened.

Just as I'm about to leave his office after noticing the men are comfortably seated, Mr Grey's smooth voice calls me back.

"Miss Steele, can you prepare some drinks for the gentlemen?"

 _Drinks? As in... offer myself for my blood? Are all of these businessmen exactly what Mr Grey is as well? Vampires?_

I smack myself in the head at the stupid thought as I stare at my boss idiotically. My face must give nothing away, because he adds clearly with a tinge of frustration, "Glasses and a jug of water please, Miss Steele."

"Oh, y-yes, sir." Immediately shaking myself out of it, I dart out of the room briskly, heading towards the staff area. Why am I being so ridiculous? Just because my boss turns out to be a vampire, it doesn't mean all other business people in Seattle are vampires. Or does it?

I reach up, locating the large spare glass jug in one of the cabinets. Then I pour some water into it and grab a few glasses. My hands keep pitifully shaking as I start the walk back to his office. I'm surprised I haven't spilled a trail of water all the way there, but I glance behind me quickly to make sure I haven't. I don't bother knocking, seeing as my hands are full and I can't. I just roughly elbow the door open, just narrowly avoiding the jug of water sploshing over onto my blouse.

"Right. I see your concerns _and_ they are valid," I hear Mr Grey say in what must be his professional-businessman voice as I enter the room. He's sitting at his desk, relaxed in his recliner chair while all the men sit behind it in individual seats. "But as I just said, our-" His voice trails off into silenice the instance he must notice my presence back into the room. _Or maybe he smelled me? Can vampires recognize people by the smell of their blood and gushing insides? Has he memorized my smell? "_ Thank you, Miss Steele. Just over here on the desk." He clears room on his desk for the jug and glasses and I force a smile as I approach it.

I can feel all three businessmen's eyes on me as I carefully plop the jug down onto the table. In fact, I can feel Mr Grey's gaze on me as well.

"Refreshments, gentleman?" Mr Grey inquires with ease, gesturing towards the jug in front of him with his hand. "Help yourselves."

All the men seem to lean over to accept a glass from me gratefully. I guess having a meeting with a big boss makes you parched.

"Thank you, Miss Steele. That will be all," Mr Grey says, his tone a very secret hint for me to leave the room so that they can carry on with their meeting. I nod nervously, smiling at all the men. Then I leave the room, shutting the door to his office securely closed behind me gently. I wipe at an invisible sweaty brow with my arm.

"They're all in his office now," I inform Andrea as I sink back down into my seat. For the next two hours before closing time and my shift is done for the day, I am in the filing room, sorting and putting away some photocopies of signed documents into their correct category. It had seemed overwhelming, at first, the task, considering how large and how many boxes there are in the room, all in various categories. But the more I get into it, working alone, the more productive and easier it is for me.

There's two walls filled with boxes, ceiling high, which is fortunate that they thought of having a step-ladder inside the room otherwise I would have been well and truly screwed.

The next documents I have to file are apparently in the box straight up near the ceiling, the B category. High shelf. Sliding the ladder along, I grip the documents and brace myself, treading on all three steps of the ladder. It's so easy to feel spookily unbalanced, and knowing me, I wouldn't be surprised if I fell straight onto my ass and broke my neck.

Breathing in deeply before stretching up, I manage to yank the box back to the edge of the shelf. Then with some trickery, I manage to slide the files into their correct area. It's pushing the heavy box back onto the shelf that is the issue. It takes a lot of manpower and a lot of heaving. With a grunt and one large shove, it happens. It happens far too quickly.

Before I know it, one of my feet has lost its bearing on the step and it falls off. And then, because of that, my whole entire body just decides to plunge itself backwards as well.

"Crap!" I shout in shock, but weirdly, I don't hit the ground painfully like I'm expecting. No, something strong and solid like a pair of arms encase around my waist, holding me up, preventing me from hitting the ground. I grip onto the persons shoulder to support myself and, as I hdart my head around numbly, it becomes all too hauntingly clear who my hero is that has just prevented me from hurting myself. Concerned, bright grey eyes meet mine as I feel the tendons and muscles shift beneath his business shirt to hold me steadily upright.

 _Ah, shit. Mr Grey. My boss._

He holds me in his arms as if I'm light as a feather, our faces close due to the contact. I feel all the breathe leave my lungs as I stare back at him, dumbfounded. I had no idea he was even in here, unless... what? He heard me fall or something? He heard me cry out?

"That was a close call, Miss Steele," he murmurs, and because our faces are pretty close, I cannot resist the movement of my eyes darting downwards to his mouth as his voice reverberates through me. There's that thing again, shining. His canines look definitely a little more extended than usual as he breathes rather harshly through his mouth, like he's every bit as startled as I am over what just happened seconds ago with my near fall incident. _Now I know why his teeth seem a little weird and pointy at times. They're his fangs. He's a vampire. Holy crap, he's actually a vampire!_

"I-it _was_ a very close call," is all I can manage weakly. My hand instinctively loosens its grip on his shoulder, gliding higher. He doesn't feel like I'm expecting; Usually, you'd feel warm blooded skin beneath the fabric of a person's shirt. But no, Mr Grey, he feels especially firm and... and tight.

I realize I am actually enjoying this, strangely enough. I like this. I like the feeling of being in my bosses arms as he holds me up in the air. How crazy.

"H-how did you know to c-catch me?" I manage, staring into his eyes as I grasp firm control on myself. Instead of feeling him up, I force my hand to ball up into a fist instead to prevent myself from doing it. "I-I thought you would still be in your office for t-the meeting?"

"The meeting finished an hour ago," he explains, his eyes examining me. I feel like he's really scrutinizing me, really memorizing my features or something. _A little odd._ "You've been in this room for over three hours straight, Miss Steele."

"Oh." I've been in here for over three hours already? Oops. "It... it hasn't felt like it's been three hours long. I-I didn't realize."

With great control over my facial features, I try to appear anything but nonchalant when he at last releases me, setting me back down onto the heels of my shoes carefully. Sadly enough, I miss at once the feeling of being in his arms, which is... weird and sudden. Especially for me.

"But how... how come I never heard you even come in here?" I ask, confused. I definitely hadn't.

"I suppose I'm a light walker," he simply says, reaching behind me for the step ladder. There's an unmistakable hint of annoyance in his tone, like I've done something wrong to irritate him. What the hell have I done now? "You're done for the evening. Everyone else is packing up to leave for the day."

"Oh. Okay."

Without waiting for him, I head out of the room, strutting towards the staff room to gather all my belongings. Throwing my handbag over my shoulder, I head back towards my area to tuck in my chair and neaten the area up. Andrea must have already left early, as well as everyone else, I realize. No one is at their desks and Andrea has already switched her computer off.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a long shadow move in my direction. I turn while adjusting the strap of my handbag, only to realize it's Mr Grey again. _Light walker, indeed. Nope, he wasn't kidding on that._

"I'll walk you to your car, Miss Steele." Like always when it comes to him walking me to my car, his tone leaves no room for discussion on the matter. Since he has been doing it for the past few days, I decide it wouldn't hurt to let him do it again. And besides, I think I am starting to sort of enjoy being around him. Also strange. He reveals himself to be this deadly... thing... and yet here I am, thinking I feel safe and enjoy being around him?

As we wait around for the elevator to come to our floor, another thought comes to me. "H-how long were you behind me in the filing room?" He must have been behind me for a while if he could have caught me so easily.

"I'd say, roughly around five minutes at the most."

"Five minutes?" Five long minutes? Doing what during that time? "Five minutes is a long time? What were you doing behind me anyway?" Not that I'm not grateful that he was behind me. Thanks to him, my neck or anything else isn't broken.

I notice something strange comes across Mr Grey's face as he brings up a hand to run his forefinger along his bottom lip. I think he's almost... trying to hide a smile for some reason? "Are you sure you truly want to know the answer to that?" he murmurs.

The elevator door finally opens on our level. I step in first with him following closely behind me, then I push the correct floor where the parking lot area is with my forefinger on the button. "I wouldn't be asking otherwise, would I?"

"Frankly? I was staring at the bottom of your skirt." I notice he doesn't meet my eyes as the elevator doors close.

I can't help bursting out laughing at his words. "Staring at my skirt? Really?" The alarming look of sincerity in his expression as he glances at me while leaning against the elevator wall shuts me up very quickly. _Oh, wow. He's being serious on that._ "Y-you're telling me the truth?"

Mr Grey only nods once as the doors finally open. I briskly shoot forward out of them so he can't notice the heat rising to my face, the inevitable blush. But wow. He was staring at my skirt? Almost like... checking me out? He's flirting with me, it occurs to me as I pause to reach into my handbag for my keys. He's actually flirting with me. My boss, my boss that revealed himself to be a...a vampire, he's flirting with me. Or is flirting the correct term for it? Do vampires flirt like... your normal average man does?

"Well, that isn't a very boss-y thing to do, is it?" I murmur as he catches up with me, walking my pace easily. "To admit that you were checking out your new employee?" I allow myself to laugh again to let him know that I'm teasing. And maybe flirting? "That could almost be considered sexual harassment?"

The short laugh he gives me, combined with a open-mouthed smile... It almost takes my breath away. I honestly can't remember ever seeing him properly laugh or smile before during my entire time of employment at his business. It's obvious he mustn't laugh or smile very often, but he should.

Embarrassed by my blatant perving of him, I deliberately glance down at my car keys as we walk towards my empty car. "Do you do this for all your employees?" I manage, curious. I turn to glance at him while fishing for the right key to unlock my car door with.

" _Do_ what?"

"Escort them all safely to their cars at the end of the night?" I am genuinely curious to know if he does or not. "Do you do this for Andrea as well?"

"No, it's just _you_ and _you alone_ , Miss Steele."

"Then why only me?" I ask, turning away for a moment to chuck my handbag into the passenger's seat before leaning back out to glance up at him. With the harsh lights in the underground staff garage, it makes him look deathly pale, I realize. He looks dramatic with the little shadows of his eyelashes making his grey eyes stand out against his cheeks. "What makes me so special then?" I hope I'm not offending him by asking, I'm just curious to know what makes me so different.

It's obvious Mr Grey can't answer that. He stares at me for a moment, unblinking, his lips parting. Obviously he isn't sure how to answer, because an instance later, he closes his mouth back up with a little head shake.

"Not that I'm not grateful that you do, of course," I murmur quickly in case he begins to think otherwise. "I really do appreciate it and it's... nice that you care about my safety that much that you feel you need to escort me to my parked car in the garage, Mr Grey. I'm just... curious as to why you only do it for me?"

A noise coming near us makes me jump a little. I glance in time to see another person striding towards their car in the lot. I have no idea why I'm so jumpy. Of course other people have their cars parked in here. I wait a little for the moment my heart beat slows down from the sudden unexpectedness of another person in the garage, standing quietly while playing with my key. When I glance up at Mr Grey again, I see he's watching me, staring at me, again as though he's memorizing my facial features. I wish I knew why he looked at me like that.

"S-so. You won't bite me without my consent?" The question comes from my mouth out of nowhere. I suppose I just want to break the silence between us, to learn some more about him. He obviously hadn't expected me to ask that so straightforwardly either, because Mr Grey appears a little unsettled.

"That's right, yes. Never without your consent first."

"And is that what you ask for when women like Miss Williams gives you her blood for 'lunch'? You ask for her consent first as well?"

"Not particularly." He must see the confused look on my face, because he continues, "Her profession is in that sort of field where she donates blood. She's already given her consent the second she shows up for a feed."

"A-are they a lot... more of you around?" I ask, lowering my voice a little. I don't really want anyone in the garage overhearing us. "Vampires in the world, I mean?"

"You'd be surprised at how many there is, walking among you, going unnoticed," he says, "A lot of us have mastered the art of blending into society."

"And all of you, you request blood donors like Miss Williams in order to get your 'feed'?" Even as I ask the question, I realize how silly it is. The sudden scolding look he gives me and the shake of his head tells me he thinks I'm being silly as well.

"You would have to be naive to think that most of us live by the same rules, where we request consenting blood donors." He licks his lips slowly, wetting them with his tongue. I kind of get the impression that even simply speaking of blood donors, it's getting him hungry. Or maybe I'm just spooking myself out? "A lot live for the thrill of the hunt, the... striking down of the unsuspecting innocent in order to consume their blood. I was the same during my first decade."

His first decade? "H-how old are you?" A part of me is nervous to know, yet another braver part of me wants to.

"I'm twenty eight years old."

"Yes, I'm sure you are, but for how long have you-"

"I don't want to answer that right now." His refusal to answer on how long he has been a vampire for, it takes me aback. I didn't realize it would be a touchy subject for him, but it's clear he truly isn't ready to answer it.

"Okay then. It-it's fine. You don't have to answer if you aren't comfortable telling me that. It just must be hard." I couldn't even imagine it.

"What is hard?"

"Well, I'm sure you had family back then? Loved ones? It must be hard going on living while they're sort of... gone?"

"I had a..." Mr Grey hesitates for a moment, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip. I can tell he isn't sure whether to tell me this either or not. But then he turns sideways so he's leaning his shoulder against my car, some of his face becoming obstructed from my sight by the way he angles it. "I had a fiancee a very... very long time ago."

He had a fiancee? He was engaged at one time? "Was this before or after you-"

"- It was after, Miss Steele," he explains quickly, his voice soft. "She knew... what I was." He pauses for a moment, staring at something far away from us in the lot. It makes it difficult for me to see his face properly, to understand how he is feeling. But I think I can hear it there, in his voice. The slight sad edge to it. "And she accepted me regardless of the dangers it presented her."

"She sounds very... loving and amazing then, if she accepted what you are easily without fear?" I murmur sympathetically. "What happened to her?" I hope he doesn't mind me asking, and I don't think he really does. Finally he turns his head to glance down at me, a million emotions seeming to burst through those grey eyes of his all at once at the memory of her.

"We didn't make it to the wedding ceremony. She..." He hesitates again, then closes his eyes, as though it makes it easier, speaking about his fiancee without having to meet my eyes, " She died on... the day we were to be joined in holy matrimony." His voice goes low, laced with aching agony. You can tell he truly loved her, and that he still grieves for the loss of her. "On the way to the church, she was... met with an accident." Reopening his eyes slowly, Mr Grey meets my gaze again, his face a mask of pure distressing heartbreak, of mental anguish. "I felt her pain. I... I tried to get to her only it was too late." He shakes his head, like he's berating himself for not getting there in time enough, like he still blames himself.

With his confession, with how clearly emotional it still makes him even after all this time, I'm not sure what to do. I'm not sure whether to embrace him out of consolation or if he would find that inappropriate for a staff member to do.

"I'm so sorry," I whisper sadly, at a loss. "I'm so sorry that you went through that, with losing your fiancee on your wedding day. It must have been terrible." I cannot even imagine how he must have felt at all. Since he's sharing something so personal, I figure I should contribute as well. "I've never had anyone close to me pass away yet fortunately, but I have lost someone. It was my father, but I was only four and I don't remember it all that much." The look in his eyes, how emotional he clearly still is over speaking about her, it makes me sad. I wish I could somehow help, only I don't know how much help I could be or what I could have to offer as far as comfort goes. "But you poor thing. I can't even imagine how painful it must be for you, having to... to live through that."

"I should let you go," he says quietly, but I'm not sure if he's just saying that as an excuse to now be alone by himself or not. "It's late."

For some reason I find heading home is something I don't want to do right now. It's been nice, no matter how sad it is to hear what he has been through. I have really learned a lot about my boss today. "Um, okay then. I guess I should probably head home."

"Drive safely."

"I always do." I stare at him for a moment uncertainly, unsure what more to say. But then he leans off my car and steps away from me. "Goodnight then, Mr Grey. I'll, um... I'll see you tomorrow in the office then?"

"Yes, goodnight, Miss Steele."

"Ana," I murmur quickly, out of nowhere. "It's okay to call me by my first name, Ana. Miss Steele makes me sort of feel old."

"Goodnight then, Ana." He smiles at me, but I notice it doesn't touch his eyes. They are still filled with gloominess, with sadness.

"Night." I slide into my seat, and he shuts the door for me gently. When I go to smile at him through the window, I realize that... he's gone. He's vanished, yet again, like he had the tendency to do the past few days when finishing walking me to my car. _Hmm, guess I understand how that's possible now then. He's a vampire. They do have a reputation for being sort of... flighty, if what I've read about them in a few fictional novels is true._

xxx

Pulling up into my same car spot the next morning in the underground garage, I grab my handbag and climb out of my car before locking it up and heading to the elevators to take me up to the right floor. As they arrive at the highest floor of the building, I step out of them, my heels clacking on the shiny white marble flooring. Entering, I immediately find Andrea at her usual place, setting up her computer for the day. She waves at me and I smile back at her before heading into the staff area to put my handbag securely away.

Coming back to where my area is, Andrea stands, handing me Mr Grey's schedule for the day. "Can you go report to Mr Grey his schedule for the day please, Ana?" she asks me, her voice a little tired and anxious this morning.

"Of course. Everything okay with you?"

"Meh," she mutters with a shrug. She sinks back down into her chair while attaching her head piece, "Don't ask. I had a terrible night's sleep last night so I am so not with it today."

"Oh, you poor thing," I murmur back sympathetically. "That's no good."

"Tell me about it." A call rings through and she goes to answer it while I make my way towards Mr Grey's office with his day's schedule.

I knock on the door twice out of politeness, before entering. Thinking back on it the past few days, I had found it so bizarre, the fact that my boss has the tendency to leave the blinds down during the day. Now I think I know why. It still takes my vision a moment to adjust over the lack of light in the office, but I manage to find the darker outline of him from where he is seated behind his desk, already immersed in some work.

"Good morning, Mr Grey," I mutter, announcing myself to him.

"Good morning, Miss Steele," he says back politely, and then catching me off guard, I am abruptly blinded by the flashing bright light of him switching on the lamp near his desk. I know he's only thinking to do it to be polite because he knows I evidently can't see all that well in the darkness of his office like he can. But gee, it's bright. "How was your night last night when you arrived home?" he asks, just to be courteous, I think.

"It was pretty quiet. You?"

"Fine," he simply says, not giving out much of what his night entailed. I step closer towards his desk while holding his schedule out to him.

"Here's today's schedule for you, Mr Grey," I say, automatically going to hand it to him like usual so he can look it over for a visual.

But to my surprise, he stands from his recliner chair before I even have the chance to. I try to hide my surprise when he shoves his hands deep into his trouser pockets and begins to slowly walk around the desk, his strides small and unrushed. Once he reaches my side, he stops right behind me, out of my vision. Why, I have no idea.

"What's my schedule for today?" he asks from behind me.

Gathering myself, I lay it down on the desk, pointing out the important details. Another meeting today with a potential business partner, a new manufacturer. And-

I stiffen, my tongue getting caught in my mouth at what he does next.

He puts his hands down on the desk, on either side of me. His long fingers outstretched and splayed across the wood. While he doesn't let himself brush against me from behind, I can tell he's there, right behind me, surrounding me. When I turn my head slightly and drag my eyes to look back at him, I see his chin is just barely inches away from my shoulder as he reads silently the schedule I've placed in front of me on the desk, the side of his face and cheek dangerously close to mine. My heart beat seems to pick up and race at the awareness of the close proximity he has placed between us, but while it seems like a deliberate move of him, it also seems casual.

He leans sideways a bit as he turns to meet my gaze then, and I wonder suspiciously if he can notice how my heart is spluttering at the closeness between us. Considering the fact that I know what he is now, surely he must have special abilities that enable him to hear the difference in someone's heartbeat or not. He's so close with his face that it's like we're intimate, like we're two lovers that have no awareness of each other's personal spaces. It makes it hard to breathe.

"Tell Andrea to rearrange my schedule," he speaks in a hushed voice, too close, too near me. It makes it hard to concentrate on his instructions when he's so close the way he is, whether deliberately intended or not. "Tell her to switch the meeting for a later hour. I'm tied up with other things at present."

It takes me a moment to find my voice again, especially with the way Mr Grey seems to be staring at me, so intensely. "I-I'll do that, sir." I shut my eyes briefly, scolding myself, at how weak and unsteady my voice sounds. It'll probably make it obvious for him to know how affected I feel by the closeness right now. When I reluctantly reopen my eyes to him, I notice his eyes have drifted. Straight to a point below my earlobe. Crap, is he thinking of biting me right now? Is he thirsty or hungry or something? "Is there, um, anything else that needs rearranging, sir?" I force out between my teeth, trying to nudge his gaze away from where he's looking.

He probably sees some juicy artery that he wouldn't mind nibbling on or something.

"No, Miss Steele..." His voice is barely below a slow, lethargic whisper as he drags his grey eyes back up to mine hastily. I notice a jaw muscle twitch as his eyes go strangely glazed over, something shining in them. "That will be all."

"V-Very well." As I go to grab his schedule off the desk,both of his thumbs brush against my pinky fingers along with the movement. It's a light, lingering caress, one that leaves a trail of tingles in its wake. Is he trying to seduce me? Because I feel like he is? And if so, I'm not entirely ashamed to admit that it's slightly working.

"Do you still agree to come with me on Saturday?" His question, it leaves me completely thrown and unsure what he is talking about. Until he elaborates a moment later. "Tomorrow night, Saturday, to see the live production of Dracula at the theater?"

Oh, the date he asked me out on. To see the show. Suddenly, I realize how ironic it was, him asking me to see Dracula with him, considering Dracula's main protagonist is, well, a vampire. Then again, was that some sort of inside joke to him? Something secret to laugh at?

"U-um, yes. I'd still love to go with you, Mr Grey."

"Excellent. Can we go through the details later tonight? When I escort you out to your car?"

"Yes, sure." He pushes off the desk, removing his arms from around me to shove his hands back into his pockets again. I find my pinky fingers are still tingling from the small amount of contact. "Um, I'll go talk to Andrea straight away about rearranging your schedule." With stiff jell-o legs, I dash out of his office, still discombobulated over what just happened.

xxx

"So you are going out with your boss?" Kate asks on Saturday, lounging around on my bed as she watches me get ready.

I hadn't been sure what to wear, but fortunately I had Kate to help me out; Kate who is really an expert on this sort of thing. We decided to opt on something casual yet pretty for me to wear out tonight; Black, skinny leg jeans, a comfortable pair of Kate's ankle boots which she let me borrow, and a ruffled floral blouse with a leather jacket thrown on the top of it all. I've opted to wear my hair out tonight since at work Mr Grey has only ever truly seen me with my hair in a loose bun in the office; loose and wavy with my bangs.

I'm so lucky I have Kate's help. She has been on plenty of dates before, whereas I haven't. She's never been to the theater to see a live production though- I beat her at that one.

"I am, Kate," I tell her while putting on my mascara. "But it isn't really a serious date sort of thing."

"Are you sure _he_ knows that though?" I meet her gaze in the mirror. "It's just that... you don't want him taking advantage of you because of his position of power. You just don't want to feel forced into doing something you don't want to do."

"It isn't like that, Kate. Really. I want to do this."

"Well, just be mindful that people at your work are probably gonna think bad things if you keep this up with."

I finish up coating my eyelashes, turning to look at her. "What do you mean?"

"People are gonna think you are just sleeping your way to the top or something. Or that like... you get preferential treatment." I give her a look to tell her she's being ridiculous. "What? That's sometimes how these things go down, Ana. It's why one major rule in life is to not sleep with the guy that's your boss, no matter how good-looking or young they are."

"I'm not sleeping with him," I point out, flushing. "I haven't."

"Yeah, but... either way, you think other people will believe that if they were ever to see you two together? It could be disastrous for your working situation."

"Well, I'll just have to risk it then, won't I? Now how do I look?"

Kate raises her eyebrows while eyeing my outfit carefully. "You look good. Go a bit heavier on the lipstick, though."

Kate's words have filled me with a little doubt once the doorbell rings and Mr Grey makes his arrival known. Kate rushes downstairs to answer it, also to probably interrogate him. She means well, I know she does, but she really doesn't need to worry so much.

"So... you must be Mr Grey?" I hear Kate say as I start to step down the stairs.

"Christian," he corrects her quickly. _Hmm, he hasn't asked me to call him by his first name yet._ "It's a pleasure to meet you."

They both turn to look at me as I finally reach the front door. I feel my heart dance in my chest at the sight of him tonight; At work, I'm used to seeing his dressed in his business suits, but tonight, he is more casually dressed for the occasion. He's wearing a white dress shirt, no tie, with a black long trench coat that reaches just above his knees, black trouser pants, and shiny polished loafers. His hair is combed back, making his cheekbones and masculine jaw stand out. I thought he was good-looking at work but... even now, in casual wear, he is even more so.

And somehow, I feel like that is exactly the same way he is viewing me. He doesn't bother concealing his appreciation over what I am wearing tonight; He lets his grey eyes slowly swoop down my body, then up again, where they land and remain on my face, something bright burning in his eyes for me. If Kate says it's risky, starting something with your boss, then... I am truly in trouble right now.

"Mr Grey," I say breathlessly.

"Are you ready to go?" he asks, and he offers his hand to me. I notice he pays Kate no mind when I accept his hand, that tingle infecting my fingers again as he gives them a light squeeze with his, his eyes on nothing else but me.

"See you both later," Kate calls, and I turn back to look at her with a smile. "Have fun watching the show." 'Be careful' she mouths at me, but when I glance Mr Grey's way self-consciously to make sure he hasn't seen her do it, I realize he's still staring at me.

"You look beautiful," he murmurs as he leads the way towards where a car is parked.

"Thank you." I flush at him as I feel him trace his thumb over my knuckles. "You don't look too bad yourself."


	10. Chapter 10

_**Chapter 10 Blood and Bone**_

As we reach the car, Mr Grey releases my hand to hold the back door open for me. As I slide in, I notice a man sitting in the drivers seat. I wonder if he knows what Mr Grey is or if... he's exactly what he is as well? Is he a vampire himself?

"This is my driver Taylor," he introduces, having been able notice my curious glance at the man in the driver's seat himself. He sits beside me, slamming the door closed while we both buckle up. I notice the man turns into his seat to look back at me; He has a short buzz cut, looking to be about roughly in his late forties or early fifties. He doesn't exactly look like... a vampire. Then again, what would I know? "Taylor, this is Anastasia Steele."

The man nods back at me as I smile at him nervously. "Hi, Taylor."

"Ma'am." His eyes flit back to where my boss is sitting. "Mr Grey, are we ready to go?"

"Yes, Taylor." I think I see Mr Grey's grey eyes checking quickly that I'm all safely buckled in. "I think we are both ready to go now."

My nerves begin to pick up as Taylor starts up the car and begins driving off from the house. There's a tense silence in the car that I feel desperate to fill. I shift slightly in the comfy leather of the backseat to face my boss, only to discover his eyes are already on me. Or maybe I'm just assuming they are on me, and he's actually staring outside my window instead? Who knows?

I clear my throat, before getting out between my teeth quietly so he can't hear us, "Does, um, your driver Taylor know that you are-"

"-He does," he cuts me off, apparently already knowing what I was about to ask.

I shoot a curious glance back at the man in front, sinking my top teeth into my lower lip. I wonder if it's impolite to just ask outright. "And is he also a, um...?"

"No, he isn't. As I just said, he's simply my driver, Anastasia." I think I hear a little amusement in his tone as he keeps his voice just as soft as mine. "Sometimes he does errands for me during the day. Things that I cannot get out and do myself for... obvious reasons."

"Because you can't go out into the sunlight?"

"Yes, for that reason exactly."

I try to imagine myself living like that, having to be inside all day, not being able to feel the sunlight on my skin. What sort of life is that to be had? "That must be hard?" I murmur thoughtfully. "Not being able to go out into the sunlight, I mean?"

"You adjust to it after a while."

"I guess you would, but... I couldn't even begin to imagine living that way. I love the Summer too much."

As his driver takes a sudden sharp turn, we end up bumping and having to sort of lean against each other. I go left, he goes right. His trench-coat clad elbow brushes against my jeans and my belly does some weird jump at the contact, no matter how accidentally and innocent it is. I'm pretty sure my face has flushed as bright as a tomato pathetically, probably to the point where he can sense all my delicious, juicy blood flowing to my cheeks. Could he hear water gushing from people like a constant flowing waterfall? I wonder if he can hear the blood pumping around various arteries. I grimace at the thought. _Yeah, Ana, maybe not think so much right now about that..._

"Thank you for inviting me out tonight," I mutter quickly, mainly just to keep my thoughts off bodily fluids and other odors he must be sensitive to. "I'm really looking forward to seeing this live production. As you know, I've never actually seen a live stage show before."

"Well, thank you for agreeing," he says, and then he lays his hand on top of one of mine that's closest to him resting in my lap. Immediately, at the sensation of his fingers simply resting there, cold against my knuckles, I get all tingly and giddy. "And yes, I'm the same. Of course, I've seen live productions before but Dracula isn't one that I've seen yet..."

The car abruptly stops and when I peer out, I realize we must be at our destination already. There is a crowd of people already waiting to head inside the theatre for the show. By the looks of it, it appears that it's going to be a successful show.

Mr Grey climbs out of the car and walks around it, only to hold the door open for me while offering me his hand. I take it, without hesitation, only strangely enough because I am beginning to like him touching me. While his fingers may be abnormally cold, there is also something oddly comforting about him touching me.

He closes the back door shut behind him after muttering a few directions to his driver Taylor, then we approach the back of the line. Even as we stand and wait by the wall, I can't seem to notice anything else but the fact that he doesn't let me hand go, he still holds it. Even as he struggles to reach into his trench coat pocket with one hand to get the tickets out.

Kate's words of wisdom tonight come to me while we edge a bit closer towards the doors the line moves up. Her little advice about people thinking badly of me if I was ever caught out with my boss, especially now, with him holding my hand the way he is... But as I glance around us, trying to find a familiar face of a co-worker in the crowd, I can't say anyone's faces ring a bell. I think we are safe tonight.

Once it's our turn in the line, Mr Grey shows the man our tickets and he scrutinizes the both of us very closely. He's wearing a crimson robe-looking thing and I'm pretty sure he is wearing eyeliner. Is this guy a real vampire like my boss is? Are the actors on the stage tonight... the one that plays Dracula even, is he a real vampire himself? Is-

Mr Grey's soft voice startles me from my thoughts. "Have you eaten dinner yet?" he asks as the man ushers us through a cozy, lit foyer.

"Um, no. Not yet."

"Then would you like to get dinner after this?"

Oh, dinner as well? "Um, sure. If... if you do?" I really can't say I was expecting dinner as well with him. Can he even eat normal food like I can? Can garlic effect him? Hmm, guess tonight would be an easy way to find out, wouldn't it? Even if in a subtle way, without him really noticing?

When we reach the room where the stage is and the seats, I find myself blown away. It's so much huger than it appears to be on the outside. The seats are red and velvety looking. There's a matching curtain drawn along the stage. The design of the theater, it looks antique. Old, even.

"Our seats are just over here," Mr Grey says, and he walks ahead of me while still holding my hand. He pushes through a crowd of people, nearly knocking into them. Or move like... bowling them over. It's like he is almost the bowling ball and they are all pins, easy to push out of the way. It's quite impressive, even if a few people turn to give us nasty looks.

As we reach our row of seats, he stands back, waving me in first. I sit, and then he sits next to me while a low chatter fills around the room, filled with excitement and anticipation. We are three rows away from the middle of the stage. He got good seats.

"I definitely wasn't expecting this," I murmur, raising my voice over the noise. It's probably unnecessary of me though, assuming since he is a vampire, he can hear easily. He'd have to have sensational hearing abilities, right?

 _Or apparently not..._

Mr Grey leans over in his seat, placing our heads closer together. Maybe he's an old vampire? Do as vampires live for longer, their hearing decreases like us humans do naturally through the perils of aging? I really do have a lot to learn.

He ducks his head back a little, and then my stomach jolts when he asks in my ear, "Is that in a good or a bad way?"

"Definitely in a good way," I say back, yelling a little. "The atsmophere in here... it's incredible." I turn my head in time as I shout to hear him cringing a little. "Um, can you hear me over all the noise or am I talking too loud?" I yell, exaggerating my mouth movements so he can lip-read.

"Miss Steele, I just heard someone sneezing outside the building while they wait to get admission into here," he murmurs back, his voice a tinge annoyed and also chastising.

But really? He heard someone just sneeze? Unable to help it, I burst out giggling a little. "Really? You can hear all that far back?"

"Yes, I can. So trust me when I say that there is no need to yell at me."

 _Whoops._ "Oh. Sorry."

Five minutes later as the doors close and everything goes eerily silent, the lights start to dim in the building. I feel my heart beat accelerate in anticipation as I clutch onto my armrests. Then the curtains slowly pull back to reveal a castle-like setting and smoke starts filling the stage, from a smoke machine, I think. Almost at once, I am spell-bound, glued to the stage.

There's no interval or anything, to my surprise. Forty exciting and captivating minutes later, the show is done. Dracula is hunted by Van Helsing after seducing the actress that plays Mina. Renfield was a really creepy guy. And Mr Grey... a few times I'd glanced his way to see if he was seeing what I was seeing, which of course, he was, he has eyes. But I caught him staring at me a few times in the dark.

I was too preoccupied and emotionally invested that I couldn't even once begin to fear that my boss was going to lunge over in the dark to start nipping and sucking at my neck.

As we all give the actors a round of applause, the lights slowly come back on, making the stage and our surroundings appear a little smoky from the use of the smoke screen. As everyone prepared to gather their things to leave, Mr Grey stands up straight from his seat, holding his hand out to me to take. And just like before, I take it without hesitation, linking our fingers together, allowing him to help me up and guide me towards the exit of the building.

I cannot seem to think coherently as he leads the way. My mind is blown on what I just witnessed. Plus, it gave me a whole lot more questions. Like... _can Mr Grey turn into mist and blow himself through key holes? Can he transform into a wolf? Or a bat even?_

"That was incredible," I gush once we make it out safely onto the street. "I cannot even think coherently after all of that." It's even darker than it was before we went into the building, the street lamps making the roads brightly lit. And it's also gotten a little colder too. Despite wearing my leather jacket and jeans, I still shiver a little.

"So you enjoyed yourself?" Mr Grey asks, just to be certain, I guess.

"I really, really did. It was amazing." He starts leading us down the street, with both of us holding hands still. It takes me a second to remember about dinner after this. "Did you enjoy it?"

"I did, although... I felt sympathy for Dracula."

"You did?"

As he looks my way, the street lights create a weird effect on his face. He appears paler in complexion, unnervingly so, his trench coat so much blacker compared to his skin. "I felt he was misunderstood," he simply says with a shrug.

"Yeah. I suppose he was, wasn't he?"

"I said I'd take you to dinner. I know a nice place near here."

"Okay, great." It takes us another block to walk, then we reach a lit-up area where, when I peer in through the windows, I see people inside, eating dinner. I'm sure I haven't been to this area for food before. It looks way... out of my price range, considering how classy and luxurious it looks inside.

Mr Grey holds the door open for me, and as I step inside, immediately it feels so much warmer than outside on the street. There's soft orchestral music floating out of a set of speakers, the chinking of silverware and wine glasses mingled among laughter and intimate chatter. I wait nervously as Mr Grey approaches the reception desk to talk to the woman behind it.

I just went out to see Dracula with my boss and now... we're eating dinner together. It definitely seems like something... date-y. I've never been on a date before, and the realization suddenly makes butterflies appear in the pit of my stomach. _So this_ is _a date?_

I'm shook out of my panicking when the woman steps behind the desk, waving her arm. "This way, please."

As we follow her, I notice she leads us to a lone table in a secluded area near a window. I definitely underestimated just how fancy the place is. There's a crystal chandelier hanging on the roof. A fireplace that is gently crackling in the center of the room. And the orchestral music, I realize, isn't actually being played by speakers. No, there is a live band at a small stage; A man playing piano, another a saxophone. Definitely fancy.

"Here are your menus," the woman says as Mr Grey yanks my chair out for me. I sit and she places them on the table next to me. "I will let you both have some time to browse and then I will return in ten minutes to collect your orders." I catch the flirtatious, admiring look the woman has for my boss. Guess I can't blame her for that.

But when I glance my bosses way as he sits across from me, I'm sickly pleased to find he isn't paying her any attention whatsoever. He isn't looking at her; No, he's already opened his menu and is scanning through it for something to eat. _Hmm, does that mean that he can eat regular food? He doesn't need just blood then?_

"You made her nervous," I point out. When he glances up from the menu, he blinks me.

"Made who nervous?" he mutters, confused.

"Oh, come on. You didn't notice?"

"Notice what?"

"The lady, you made her nervous," I say, gesturing to her while trying to be subtle about it. Mr Grey turns in his seat, and the instance she notices from where she is standing behind her reception desk, she fluffs her blonde hair up, like she's preening.

When he turns back in his seat to look at me, his expression gives nothing away. "I make a lot of people nervous, Miss Steele. Call it automatic survival instinct."

"No, um, I mean, it's pretty obvious that she fancies you?"

He stares at me for moment. Then he simply shrugs, returning his gaze to the menu. "Does she?" He sounds like he doesn't care. Hmm.

"You don't find her attractive?"

"Not in the slightest," he says, bored sounding. He rests an arm against the table, lifting his hand to run his index finger over his lower lip. "What do you want?"

Oh, okay. That's one way to get me to shut up about it.

"Um." I open my own menu, reading it myself. Then I remember my plan. There's garlic bread. It would be interesting to see his reaction, to see if garlic affects him. Isn't that what they say in myths? Garlic wards off vampires? "I actually feel like something... carby. Garlic bread, maybe?" I look directly into his face as I say the garlic part.

Unfortunately, he gives nothing clear away. He simply resumes rubbing his finger back and forth over his bottom lip. He does have good lips, a nice shape to his mouth. I wonder if his mouth is just as cold as his hands?

"Garlic bread it is then. I'm thinking wine."

 _Wine? Well, that's a surprise._ "Okay. Wine is good too."

When the woman returns, she acts all nervous again, her voice a little shaky every time my boss directs his gaze on her. Admittedly, he does have a powerful gaze. His grey eyes, the shade of them, they are incredible.

"The garlic bread and the wine," he says, his voice quite bossy. Which, he is a boss, so... doesn't that really go with the territory? "That is all." He gathers our menus, handing them to the woman. I watch as she lingers for a moment, curling a hand through her blonde hair. Then, defeated, she leaves. I almost feel a little sorry for her. Well, no, who am I kidding? I don't feel sorry for her. At all. Where did this sudden cattiness come from?

I glance out towards the window, and I jolt a little in my seat. I had been expecting to not be obvious about it, but it's obvious he caught me.

"Are you all right?" he murmurs, and when I shoot a look at him, he arches his eyebrows at me.

"Um, yeah, it... it's just that..." A laugh escapes me as I look pointedly towards the window again. There's my face peering back at me. And... _his_. He has a reflection.

"What? You didn't expect for my reflection to be showing back at you?" he murmurs, something knowing but also amused in his tone.

"Honestly? I didn't. I thought that was one of the, um... rules or something? That you had no reflection?"

"Well, I do have one. That's just something make-believe in fiction tales."

Hmm, okay then. "And what about tonight with Dracula?"

"What about it?"

I feel silly asking but I cannot resist. "Well, he had some pretty neat powers? Can you turn into mist and float through key holes?"

Surprising me, he chuckles while leaning back in his seat. I don't hear him laugh all too often but when he does... damn. "No, unfortunately I can't do that. I wish I was able to though."

"You wish you could?"

"Think about it. If could then... I could float underneath the crack in the door of your bedroom while you sleep." My breath. Gone. I'm not sure if he is deliberately trying to tease me or not, because his tone, his expression, it makes it really hard to tell. His tone is lower, almost... seductive even? "I could watch you without you even being aware of it, while you writhe and moan in your sleep."

Although it feels like I'm burning, red-faced, I play it off cool. Or at least attempt to. "Sorry to disappoint you then Mr Grey, but I've been told I'm not much of a moaner." I cannot keep the smile off my face, failing at pretending my own joke is real, "A snorter and drooler, maybe. But never a moaner." I don't know if it's just me but suddenly the room feels really warm. I have to break his gaze, glancing down at the table instead. "Can you... fly?"

"No, sadly I can't do that either. But I can run. I can run and climb... and jump, to heights you probably couldn't even imagine."

"Sounds interesting," I murmur, my voice embarrassingly breathless. "Can you touch silver? Can you... enter a church or a place of religious worship?"

"Silver doesn't affect me, although... it does tend to leave me with a slight itch. As for entering places of holy worship, that doesn't affect me either."

Now that we have started this, I'm on a roll. "Crucifixes?" I peer up at him, relieved that he doesn't seem too annoyed by my questioning. If anything, he seems amused. His grey eyes shine back at me while that finger... it runs repetitively across his bottom lip.

"Crucifixes don't affect me either. Nor does holy water."

Hmm. What else then? A whole new different line of thought comes inside my head. One probably not all that pleasant. "Have you, um... killed before?" To my astonishment, I manage to sound completely normal, as if it isn't unnerving, asking him out right if he has murdered someone before. Shouldn't I be a little more freaked out?

"When I... first became what I was, there were a few... instances, yes." He sounds as though he is trying to find out a more kinder way to admit to it. Maybe he's afraid it will put me off? Like it probably should do... "I misjudged my new strength and how much I could take."

"How much you could take?" I repeat, confused.

"When it came to feeding." Oh. "I hadn't realized when I first became what I was that there was a way to... not completely drain someone of their blood. And, what's more, it hadn't occurred to me that it could be too much of a good thing." My confused face must give me away, because he continues quietly, "I took too much, depleted them of too much blood. It hadn't occurred to me that it was not necessary at the time, that I did not require so much to feel satiated."

"You drank too much of their blood, you mean?"

"Yes. Tell me." His tone forces me to listen very carefully to what he is explaining to me. I sit up straighter in my chair, intrigued. "How many liters of water are you able to drink? How much is the human body able to... stand?"

"I'm not sure, but I have heard it's possible to drink too much. The body drowns, shuts itself down."

"Well, that too, can happen for me if I consume too much blood. I learned it the hard way. When I first began, I drank and drank, to the point where afterwards I suffered agonizing stomach cramps and nausea. Admittedly, I can't die as a human can over drinking too much fluids, but... it was still painful. Now, I've learned to pace myself, to only drink what I need to be satiated." He peers at something past me, distracted. "And to also not kill the human, of course," he adds under his breath.

Startling me, the woman makes herself known, carrying two glasses and a wine bottle. She pours us both half a glass of the red wine, then sets the bottle on the table after telling me the bread that we ordered is on its way.

We reach for our glasses at the same time. I find myself staring at him, curious to see if he will actually drink a mouthful of it. Or will he only just fake it? Can he drink alcohol?

"Now I know the appropriate amount of blood to take," he continues, peering into his glass of red, sloshing it around a little. "I only require a few sips at the most for sustenance, every second day or so."

"And that's where the blood donors come in like Miss Williams?"

"Yes, that's correct." I find myself holding my breath as he raises his glass to his lips. He takes a sip of the wine, then swallows it down. Well, I think I hear him swallow.

"Are you truly drinking that?" I cannot help asking. "Can you, um... eat or drink like I can?"

"We can, if we need to, under pretense. I enjoy drinking wine so I allow myself to drink it on occasion."

"Do you have to, um... purge it up later?" I blab out. If he does, that definitely gives a new meaning to the word bulimia.

"A glass or two is usually fine."

I smell a whiff of it before I even see it. The aroma of warm, freshly cooked garlic bread. The woman appears, setting it down on the table between us near the bottle. I make sure I examine my bosses face very carefully for any revealing reaction to the stench. To my disappointment, he simply takes another sip of his wine. _Hmm, maybe garlic doesn't effect him either?_

Still, even although he hasn't shown any outwards sign of repulsion as yet, I grab and tear a thick gooey slice off with my fingers. I keep my gaze on him as I sort of messily cram a large mouthful of the bread into my mouth and chew on it. I feel the warm, greasy butter and garlic coat my lips, and I lick it off greedily. Mr Grey's eyes seem to follow the movement of my tongue as I do it.

"Mmm, the garlic bread is very delicious," I murmur, gesturing towards it. "You are welcome to have some if you like?" I just want to see how he will react to the garlic.

"I think I'll pass, thank you," he simply says, with something there in his tone.

His grey eyes remain on me, almost fixated even, as I deliberately push two fingers into my mouth, sucking the greasy garlic off the tips of them. I think I see a hint of a change there s he shifts slightly in his seat at my behavior. I think he's a little bothered, but I can't be sure if it's due to the pungent smell of garlic or not. All I know, is that a glassy, vacant look comes across his eyes as he stares at me. Or well, more correctly at my lips as I lick them again slowly. _Does he feel the urge to flee over the garlic yet or... what?_

"I know exactly what you are doing, Miss Steele."

I try to play innocent while nibbling on another piece. "Oh?"

"You mightn't think I do, but I know exactly what you are doing."

A large crusty bit gets stuck in my throat as I swallow. My eyes water and I reach for my wine desperately, washing it down, all the while making sure I look at nothing else but him. "And what am I apparently doing, Mr Grey?"

"I think you deliberately ordered the garlic bread. You wanted to toy with me."

"What if I just love garlic bread? What makes you even think that everything I'm doing right now revolves around you?" My voice fails me, it shakes a little with amusement. I have never been a good liar, but I can't deny I am enjoying this playful bantering between us. "I'm just innocently enjoying some garlic bread."

"No, you're not."

"Oh?"

"You want to know what I think, Miss Steele? I think you ordered the garlic bread on purpose." He grips the edge of the table with his hands, leaning over it slightly, closer to where I'm sitting. There goes my breath again. "Why do I think that, you wonder?" Holy crap. It's like that day I found him having 'lunch' in Miss Williams all over again, how afterwards he described biting in such vivid, erotic detail. There is something about his voice that he can seem to effortlessly alter, making each word sound like foreplay. Or something... deviant. "I think you ordered the garlic bread on purpose because you are curious to know whether garlic is a weakness, as they say in those fiction tales and myths. You want to know if it effects me like they say."

 _Damn, he's good._ I swallow another small sip of the wine, just to buy myself some time. "Okay, you aren't that far from it," I mutter, surrendering. "Maybe I did deliberately order the garlic bread because I wanted to see your reaction to it."

" _And_?"

"And your lack of reaction is fairly... disappointing," I breathe, moving to grab another piece hungrily. I didn't realize how much I was starving until I ate the first slice of bread.

"You know..." he begins, loosening his grip around the table with his hands. Instead he sits back in his seat, reaching for his wine glass again. He plays with the stem, turning it around absently with his fingers. "A few centuries ago, people believed wearing cloves of garlic around their necks protected them from malevolent spirits like vampires."

"I know," I murmur after chewing. "That's where I kind of got the idea from."

"So is that what you hope for? Protection?" I pause mid-chew at the concern in his voice, the strange hint of sadness to it. He uses one hand to run his fingers through his tousled, slicked back hair, an unfathomable emotion flitting across his face as he stares across at me. "Protection... from me?"

Oh. The question is unexpected. "Is that what you want?"

"It would be better for both of us, if you did, if you..." - he pauses, shrugging in thought, "-Things perhaps wouldn't end badly if you did want to avoid me, if you... hoped for me to go away."

I drop my half-eaten piece of bread back onto the plate, my appetite suddenly vanishing strangely at the thought.

I never expected to feel it, so intensely, so painfully, at the idea of it, but... staying away from him, despite what he has revealed himself to be, all that he is, I feel worried at the idea of deliberately separating myself from him. Like the absence, the loss... it would be too painful. I don't have many friends, aside from Kate, who I have known since we were young kids.

And Mr Grey, despite him being my boss, and despite it being unethical, us having gone out to see a live theater show together and him buying me dinner, sort of like a romantic date, I value his friendship. Or well, his company. I've started to really enjoy having him around, maybe for reasons more than just those of a simple platonic friendship. Right now, I cannot even begin to imagine keeping away from him -despite anything.

"I don't want that," I finally admit, my voice strange bereft, one I barely even recognize. "You keeping away from me- even after what you've told me about yourself- it... it isn't something I would ever want to happen." I shake my head, at a sudden loss of words. "I mean, it's odd because I barely even truly know you expect a few things about you, but I... I already enjoy spending time with you and being in your company."

"Well, I _am_ your boss. Seeing as you are working at my company, we are forced together."

"No, but not even like that," I get out quickly, desperate for him to understand. "It isn't just even because of that. For some reason, despite... everything you have told me about yourself, your... your secret, I feel comforted around you." He tilts his head to the side, evaluating me at my sloppy confession. I think I see a brief flash of relief in his eyes at my words. "Safe, even."

"Safe?" He repeats softly, and then he glances away from me for a moment, somewhere across the room. He still shifts his wine glass around with his fingers absentmindedly. "Of all the things to feel around me, you say you feel.. safe?"

"Yeah, I do."

His eyebrows twitch a little as he digests the word in, but it's impossible to read what he is thinking on that.

"I know it's probably ironic, feeling that way considering everything you have pretty much told me," I murmur quietly, peering down at my half-eaten piece of bread glumly. "But I... I can't help how I feel."

His brows arch again at my words but he doesn't say anything, he just remains staring at something - or someone else- far across the room. Leaning an elbow against the table, I reach up nervously with my hand, raking my fingers through the bottom ends of my hair, feeling a little embarrassed. _Why do I feel all of a sudden as though I have said something idiotic?_

"Anyway, tell me more about her," I force out under my breath, desperate for a change in subject. My cheeks feel flaming, my heart probably pounding loudly for him to hear as I feel my mind race, going crazy on trying to work out what he must be thinking or feeling about what I've just told him. _Why isn't he saying anything in response?_

To my relief, my question brings his attention back to me. He shifts slightly in his chair, his eyes darting back to me quickly, his brows furrowing. "Tell you more _about who_?" he asks quietly, confusion evident in both his tone and expression.

It makes me feel better, knowing he's back to talking to me. "You know, your fiancee? The woman you mentioned to me about, the... the one you were going to marry, however... long ago it was?" I hope he doesn't mind me asking, but I truly am curious about her. I could tell he passionately loved her when he last spoke about her and that he was still devastated over the loss of her.

He raises an eyebrow. "What is it exactly that you would like to know about her?"

"Well, what... did she look like? Describe her to me?"

"Well..." Mr Grey inhales in deeply, his grey eyes slowly drifting over and down my face. They land on my hair, on what my fingers are still doing, compulsively weaving and combing through the ends. He shrugs once. "She was beautiful."

"Just beautiful? Come on, can't you give me more than that?" I prompt gently. "What color were her eyes?"

"Blue." His eyes immediately focus on mine, I notice. "Her eyes were blue." He jerks his chin in my direction. "Exactly the similar shade to yours. I could always..." But then he stops himself, biting down on his lower lip. I can tell he isn't sure whether to continue what he wants to tell me, but I really do want to know.

"You could always, _what_?"

He releases his bottom lip from his teeth, his eyes peering into mine deeply. "I could always easily find myself getting..." He clears his throat hoarsely, a bit like even the mere thought of how she looked, her eyes... like he's affected by her all over again. It's captivating. "Lost in them. They are the completely... identical shade to yours."

"Oh." I wasn't expecting him to admit to my eyes being similar. "Does that, um, make it hard? Or like... bring back memories kind of? When you, um, look into my eyes, I guess?" I don't want to be presumptuous, of course.

I notice he avoids my gaze, his lips pressing into a tight, thin line as he peers down into his glass of wine. "It does," he says slowly after a moment. "Sometimes it can be like... going back in time. And her hair..." He squeezes his eyes shut suddenly, like he's in immense pain. "Her hair was similar to yours as well." My eyes and my hair? "Dark, long..." Reopening his eyes, he startles me and catches me off guard with what he does next.

Before I know it, he reaches over with his arm across the table and he grips the ends of my hair between his fingers in a handful. Not to hurt me, I don't think, because his fingers are very gentle. Very careful. He pulls his own fingers through the tangles of my hair, stroking it. I feel like all the breath has left my lungs, discombobulated by his sudden actions and what he has decided to do to me. I bite my lip, bringing my eyes up to meet his. They stare at me fixedly, there but also not there. Like he is seeing me, but he also isn't seeing me.

"Soft," he adds, his voice barely above a whisper. "Dark, long and... _soft_." It's like he's swept away, lost in the feel, the texture of my hair. " _Incredibly_ soft. I want to feel it scraping against my chest again _so badly_." The last part is said so quietly, so low, like a longing-filled exhalation that I am not even so sure I have heard correctly or not.

 _But did he just say-_

His entire body seems to tense beneath the material of his trench coat, and he drops his fingers, sliding them out carefully from my hair, stopping touching me immediately. I feel an almost sad sting in my gut that he's stopped touching me. His hand falls back onto the table, and he drags it slowly back so that he is touching the stem of his glass again.

"Forgive me," he mutters, lowering his eyes. He looks suddenly conflicted. Embarrassed over his behavior even, though he obviously doesn't show it by blushing like I do. "Have you eaten enough of your bread?"

"Um, yes." _How can he think I can even eat after that?_ "I think so."

"Then let's go, shall we?" I can't help noticing how distant he feels as he waves for the bill, his expression giving nothing away as he refuses to meet my gaze. I wonder what just happened, but I am positive I wasn't hearing things. _I have her eyes, and her hair. What can that mean?_

His smile is tight and forced as he pays the bill for the dinner. I notice the woman from the reception desk stare at his back longingly after he holds the door open for me. Yeah, she definitely fancies him.

Mr Grey still seems somewhere else as he places his hand on the small of my back, pressing and encouraging me along as we walk down the footpath. Even as I peer over at him in the harsh glow of the lamp lights, he appears conflicted and deep in thought. _What's happened to him? What's wrong?_

"I'm sorry," I mutter quickly as we stop, looking both ways before crossing the road.

He throws me a fleeting, questioning look but he's quick to avoid staring at me for too long, I notice. "Sorry for what?"

"For mentioning her and bringing her up," I explain. "For forcing you to speak about her. Clearly you aren't ready and it was wrong of me, and I'm sorry I upset you."

Surprising me, he reaches up, wrapping his hand around my elbow, his thumb pressing through my jacket into the soft area above my forearm as he pulls me to a sudden stop. Reluctantly, I lift up, meeting his gaze in the harsh lights. His expression makes me breathless. His eyes are wide at my words and he seems almost vulnerable in a weird way as he stares down at me deeply. His lips part. I think I see his- are they fangs?- elongated.

" _Don't_ be sorry," he murmurs, and he uses his other hand to hold it beneath my chin, keeping my head still. His fingers are yet again freezing and although I already know they are, it still catches me off-guard when the tips of them brush against my chin. "You have _absolutely nothing_ to be sorry for."

I peer up at him doubtfully, biting my lip. His eyes drop to my mouth, watching what my teeth are doing, fixated on them as the sharp edges gently mash into my lip, it seems. Then, with the hand that's beneath my chin, he turns it slightly with his wrist until the tip of his thumb easily touches the middle of my chin. Without much force, his thumb easily tug and pulls my bottom lip away, free from my teeth.

Something shines in his eyes and then he leans down, brushing his lips against mine. It happens so suddenly. For a second there, I honestly was secretly wishing he would attempt to kiss me, considering he's already standing so close and he was pulling my lip free. And since he does, I feel weirdly giddy and light, the instance his cooler lips do press against mine.

I haven't been kissed before, so I tense up at first, unsure of myself and what to do. But then he reaches up with both hands, taking my face in both of them extra lightly, extra carefully, an odd sensation. His hands feel as though he'd immersed them in ice seconds earlier and I can't help shuddering, the blood in my cheeks boiling beneath them. I think I can feel his hands actually trembling as he caresses and strokes my cheeks and face with them, like it's exerting all of his will to not hold me too tightly.

Gaining confidence, I reach up with my own hands, gripping his forearms through the bulky soft material of his trench coat as I kiss him back, embracing him in return. I get so wound up, kissing him back, getting lost in the moment, that I lose my balance. I fall back a few steps and then he's abruptly pushing me up against the wall of some building I cannot even care to take notice of right now. All there is, is his lips moving against mine as I try to meet his movements, gaining more momentum and passion with each second that passes by.

I never once thought this would actually be reality, that I would ever end up heatedly kissing someone that has employed me, and certainly not someone who has revealed themselves to be a vampire. Yet here we are, he has me pressed back against a building wall, and a million butterflies are fluttering in my stomach, rapid and ecstatic.

And then, soiling the moment, an odd noise disrupts us. A sort of rumbling, growling noise that reverberates from his body to mine. It's a sound similar to what my stomach makes when I am famished and hungry of a morning. A sound I heard once before in Mr Grey's office coming from his stomach before he so rudely demanded I get out when he-

All too abruptly and without warning, Mr Grey pulls his mouth from mine, both hands and arms concealing his face as he swoops a few inches away from me up against the wall. I stare, panting heavily, trying to regain my breath. He keeps his entire head hidden, concealed by his arms as he covers them over it. I think I can see his entire shoulders and back are shuddering violently.

"Um, Mr Grey?" I pant, still trying to recover. "A-are you okay?"

"Go." The command that tears out of his mouth, it doesn't even sound like it belongs to him. The voice is deeper, harsher somehow. Guttural and growly, as if some wild animal or beast has taken him over.

"What? But I don't-"

"Taylor is waiting by the sidewalk." He is? I turn to look while still trying to make sense of what is going on, only to find he's right. The car is waiting right there for us. "Go," he urges, waving his hand at me vaguely, shooing me away. "Now go!"

He doesn't need to tell me twice. Gritting my teeth while trying to fight back the pain, the embarrassment, and all the strange rejection that overcomes me, weighing me down, I dash towards the back door of the car his driver Taylor is operating.

..

Thank you for such nice encouragement. It means a lot. Poor Ana lol. Sorry if she seems dumb or the story is silly haha, hope it isn't really bad argh


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

I don't know why I'm so surprised to find Kate still up and waiting for me the instance Taylor drops me off home. The instance I open the door and get inside, she's immediately there, hovering around me like a hungry rat eager for every little morsel she can get over how everything went tonight. I suppose I cannot blame her; It truly is a first time occurrence, me going out with someone on a sort of date. I'm pretty sure she had even peeked outside the window to see whether Mr Grey would be walking me to the door or not. Obviously, he hadn't so she missed out.

"Huh? So the guy doesn't even walk you to your door to say goodbye?" She mutters disapprovingly the instance I take off the boots she let me borrow tonight. "What's with that?"

"He never came back with me, Kate. His driver just dropped me off alone."

Having been able to think clearly in the car on the drive back, I think I can in some ways understand what just happened. Mr Grey was hungry. As in blood devouring hungry. He obviously hadn't wanted to drink from me or attack me, so that was the reason for him being so abrupt in demanding I leave. What I can't understand is why he felt it necessary to hide his face from me. Us, kissing while he had shoved me up against the wall.,.. it had been incredible. Was it my kisses that brought out his sudden hungriness? Was it getting too hot and heavy for him to handle?

"His driver just dropped you off alone? Huh?"

"It's sort of hard to explain," I murmur, handing her the pair of boots back gratefully. I obviously can't very well explain to her what truly happened and why it is that he couldn't come back in the car, but I understand how weird it must seem to her.

"Well, did you enjoy yourself then?"

"I did. The live show was incredible." She follows me into the kitchen, eager for more details. "It was sort of scary as well, though. Then again, it was Dracula."

"Right. And what else happened?" She drops her boots on the floor carelessly, giving me all her attention while I fill the kettle with water. I could do with a soothing cup of tea right now. "Did you two do anything?"

I flush, thinking back to how we kissed tonight. While also being a little outraged by Kate's bluntness. "Well, we had dinner afterwards. Or well, I did. I had garlic bread and red wine."

"And?" she prompts, leaning her elbows against the counter, eyeing me curiously.

"And, well..." I inhale in deeply, forcing myself to remain nonchalant. "It's not that big a deal, but we did kiss a little."

Kate clamps a hand over her mouth, making a little squeak of shock. God, is it such a major deal? "Wow, so you two kissed, huh? Before or after the show?"

"After the show," I explain, although I'm not entirely sure why that detail is so important. "After dinner."

"So how was he?" She wiggles her perfectly arched brows at me. "I mean, it? How was the kiss?"

"Seriously, Kate?" I feel like I cannot even meet her eyes as I grab a clean mug from inside the cupboard. "It was a kiss. A really, really nice kiss. What more else is there to say?" I fail in my attempt not to smile pathetically. She makes another squealing noise. "Kate, please!"

"Tongue or no tongue?" I cannot help the nervous laugh that tears out of me from that question. "Seriously, this is a big deal for you! And it isn't everyday that my best friend goes out on a date with the opposite sex now, is it? Pardon me if I'm a little excited for you..."

"Honestly, Kate, I really can't remember if it involved tongues or not. But it was very... nice. I really enjoyed it." And I think he did too.

"So you like him? I mean, obviously you do if you both kissed?"

"Yeah, I...I really do like him, Kate." Like seems an understatement at this point. I think I more than like the man.

"I sort of can see why you would. I mean, meeting him when I answered thew door to him, he did look... good looking." She continues watching me speculatively as I make myself a cup of tea . It's irritating, how nosy she is for details. Haven't I already told her enough? "And he definitely seemed into you. I mean, he couldn't take his eyes off you. It was like, the instance you came towards the door, I pretty much ceased to exist."

What she's telling me, it leaves me feeling all tingly and fluttery.

"Do you think you like him enough to have sex?" she asks bluntly, really taking it a step too far.

I feel myself go madly red at her words. Seriously? Who asks these things?

"Um, Kate. It was just one date. It's too early to think about something like that, don't you think?"

"Ah, no. There is no such thing as too early. It's either you wanna or you don't."

I bite my lip nervously, glancing down at the liquid in my mug. Gee, she is insufferable right now. But do I want to have sex with him? Maybe. Yes. Although I would be happy with simply more kisses. And lots of them. "Um, I... I honestly haven't thought about it, Kate." I shrug. "All I know is that I definitely am into him. In a way that I've never been into anyone else, before. I mean, you know me. You know I hardly have dated or shown much interest in any other guys before."

"Yeah, and that's why this is such a huge deal to me!"

"Yeah," I murmur, trying to sound disinterested. I really think I would appreciate it if we could stop talking about this right now.

"He is your boss though," she adds. "So I can sort of get your hesitance. But I could tell he would totally be keen on it if you were."

"Says the girl who was just lecturing me on the pitfalls of dating your boss barely three hours ago," I mutter under my breath wryly before taking a small sip of my drink.

"Hey, I'm just looking out for you! And I did warn you of his reputation!"

"Oh, yeah. That reputation." Of him supposedly seeing different women. Which now I know are the donors he feeds from for blood. "You warned me straight after I got the job."

"Yeah, but I don't think you'll have anything to worry about, if how he looked at you tonight was anything to go by. He definitely looked into you."

I take a longer sip of my tea, holding the mug up to my chin so she can't see my face.

"Do you reckon you'll do it again? Go out with him on a date again, I mean?"

"I'd definitely like to, Kate," I admit after a seconds thought. "I enjoyed myself tonight." But then after how he abruptly pushed me into getting into the car with Taylor, would he still want to see me again after that? "I guess if he asks me out again, I probably would again for sure."

"And have sex?"

I almost choke on my mouthful of tea. Oh, Jesus. How did I already know this was going to happen the instance I came home from tonight? I knew she was going to be relentless. So typical of Kate.

"Um, I'm going to decide not to answer that," I murmur shyly, draining the last of my tea quickly. I really need to take a shower. And remove all of tonight's make up. "I think I'll go take a shower then get ready for bed."

I can tell she's disappointed. Kate sighs loudly, her shoulders slumping. "Fine. But are you sure there isn't anything else you want to tell me about what happened tonight?"

"Kate, nothing else happened apart from the kiss. Okay?"

"Fine. But when something does happen, any good stuff like sex, I want a full report."

"You pervert," I murmur, teasing.

"And proud of it!" She sticks her tongue out at me as I laugh, shaking my head.

I head upstairs to my room, grabbing my pajamas and a clean pair of underwear and a bra. As I dash into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me gently, I feel all hot and tingly simply by rethinking through Kate's words. I suppose she is right. He definitely gave me signs that he was into me. And kissing him... Automatically, I sweep my tongue over my top and bottom lip, trying to find a reminder, a little taste or a feeling lingering. I do hope he's okay after what happened. I realize us kissing, it must have made him hungry or something. His stomach had certainly gurgled loudly enough.

I run the water in the shower, adjusting it to the right temperature before removing all of tonight's clothes and tossing them on the floor. I cannot help going over how tonight went. I definitely do like him, probably more than what is rational or safe to. I feel my cheeks heating as I step into the shower, submerging myself beneath the steady jet of water. Kate's question comes back to me. Of whether I not I'd actually like him enough to move to the next step, to the whole big... sex thing. Despite everything, all that he has revealed about himself, and the niggling fact that he is my boss... could I actually have sex with him?

The weird pang that originates somewhere below my chest signals that as a loud yes.

I want him, I realize. I want him enough that I would be happily, completely, totally willing to have sex with him. Him revealing himself to me as a vampire doesn't alter how I feel at all.

I close my eyes as I lean my head back into the soothing warm spray, allowing the strands of my hair to get saturated. Mr Grey... he's obviously dangerous. He has power and strength that I probably can't even compare with. And he needs blood. He needs to bite, he needs to drink human blood in order to exist. You'd think I would feel squeamish about that, or that it would put me off slightly. Only it doesn't.

All I can seem to remember is how he had described it to me. How apparently the women he bites... they orgasm quickly. And intensely. Would he ever want to bite me and have some of my blood? Could I be brave enough to let him do that? Considering the way he had described it to me, how magical and erotic it had sounded... I bite down on my wet bottom lip as I comb my fingers through my damp hair, pushing it to one side. Would he make me orgasm really quickly? Would the pain of him biting me- would it be fleeting? Or agonizing?

As I reopen my eyes slowly, I reach for the soap distractedly. Does he hunger for my blood? Does he want me? I lather up under my arms and circle the soap around my navel. Clumsily, the soap drops heavily at my feet as suds run down my legs but I don't bother picking it up. Mindlessly, I shut my eyes again, imagining it. Imagining him.

Him directing me to stand facing the wall, as he did with Leila Williams that day when I caught them. Slipping one of his shoes between my heels, nudging me, prying my legs wide apart as I lift up with my hands, leaning against the wall for support.

My hand strokes beneath my belly button, fingers dipping lower.

Him gathering my hair in his hands, touching it like he had tonight. Gently, carefully. Moving it away with his fingers with care.

I skim around my inner thigh with my fingers gently, imagining his voice.

Him leaning over me from behind, his chin near my shoulder. Then I dip my fingers into my warm folds, stiffening.

 _"I'm going to bite you, Miss Steele,"_ I imagine him saying to me in my mind, but his voice is low, hungry. Growly. _"And when I do, you are going to come."_

My fingers act as if they have a mind of their own, rubbing, sliding in a repetitive, forceful motion as my spine arches back against the jet of water lashing against it. His chin scraping against me as he lowers his head, his cold lips brushing against the inner column of my throat.

 _"I'm going to fuck you with my fangs now, Miss Steele."_ Ugh.

I shudder, overcome with a sudden burst of amazing feeling due to what my fingers are doing. I gasp out loud, feeling my nipples harden, my legs shake.

When it's all over with, I lean against the cold tiled wall with my shoulder, dashing the water away from my eyes, blinking heavily in astonishment.

I've touched myself throughout the years, as any young woman does, experimenting with her own body. But this time, combined with my fantasy of Mr Grey... well, holy crap. That had to be the most intense orgasm I'd experienced yet. And all thanks to the thought of him, his raw hungry voice, his mouth on me. His teeth sinking into me. Him sucking me into his mouth.

Yeah, I want him. I want him to bite me. I want him to allow me to experience what it's like. Crazy and probably not smart, but... I do.

Tossing my head, I focus on calming my breathes while shampooing my hair. Once I'm done and everything is rinsed off, I turn off the shower and reach for my towel. My heart still beats rapidly, my mind gloriously blank as I step out of the shower.

I'm still not even entirely with it as I brush my damp hair. I pad barefooted to throw my dirty clothes in my laundry hamper near my bedroom door, realizing I hadn't thought of shutting my curtains as yet. Still a little dopey and mellow, I trudge over towards my window to close them. I gather one end of the curtains, dragging it along while peering outside the window.

That's when I spot it. A figure, a rather tall figure standing outside, right across the street from the window. Standing by the tree that belongs in the yard across from me. At least, I think it's a person. Someone appears to be standing, leaning against the tree trunk. I feel my cheeks rise with that familiar stupid heat as I imagine the figure looking up at me through the window, glaring incriminatory over what I just did to myself in the shower barely minutes ago. Like someone could even tell what I was doing. No one else can know, of course. The slight guilt and paranoia still hits me though when I pause, analyzing the figure in the dark. I know I'm being stupid. My mind is playing tricks on me.

Batting my idiotic thoughts away, I lift up, grabbing the other side of the curtain hastily. Shutting myself securely off inside my bedroom, making whatever that weird person-like figure from across the road disappear.

xxx

 _"I'm going to fuck you with my fangs now, Miss Steele."_ The words of my dark, dirty fantasy, his voice, it wrecks havoc on my mind as I drive to work on the Monday, hoping to get in early and on time.

I had hoped driving would distract me from thinking too much, but apparently not. I think it's the nerves of having to go into work, having to see my boss again, being face-to-face with him while knowing, in the back of my mind, that I touched myself to him in the shower that gets to me. What if he knows? Or what if I go completely red-faced in his company, and it gives everything I am feeling away? Hell, what if I even accidentally start feeling aroused in front of him? Could he smell it, with his surely heightened abilities? Could he smell arousal?

 _Gee, my mind really is going to be the death of me_.

I pull into the cover of the underground parking area, finding my usual spot where I usually park. As I shut my car off, I give myself a stern pep-talk while grabbing my handbag and double-checking I'd packed today's lunch.

 _I just have to stop thinking about it. No one can tell I fantasized about my boss in the shower simply by looking at me. He won't smell anything. Get yourself together, Ana_.

I inhale in an enormous lung full of air. Then I get out of my car, securely lock it up, and head to the elevators while tossing my keys in my handbag.

Andrea's already at her desk as I stride in. She greets me with a nod while speaking to someone on the phone, and I return her nod with a smile, setting myself in for the day. Anxiously, I can't help glancing towards Mr Grey's office, my stomach in knots. His office door is already closed. He's probably already in, considering how he said he gets in early before the sun rises. God, please don't let him be able to tell simply by looking at me.

"Ana, can you do the usual please, and run through Mr Grey's schedule with him?" Andrea asks after hanging up. I'm all too happy to have something productive to do, but...seeing him... Oh God.

"Um, sure. I can do that."

She ruffles a few papers, then shoves his schedule at me that is written down on the sheet.

"Okay, thanks."

My feet are embarrassingly shaky as I get up from my chair. I wish I could just act normal. Why am I being so weird? As I head towards his shut office door, I knock gently, as usual, then let myself in. I'm greeted by all shadows and darkness and no light from the lamp. No surprises there.

"Ah, Mr Grey?" I call, pushing myself in. I lean against the door with my back, clicking it shut again. "It's Ana. Um, obviously, but you... already know that." Why am I rambling? Stupid. "I have your days schedule for you?" I squint into the direction of his desk. It's impossible to see. "I-I don't even know if you are in here or not, I-I can't see, but-?" My voice trails off weakly, uncertain. Where the hell is he anyway? Him turning on the lamp would do wonders for me right now. "Um, Mr... Mr Grey?"

"Yes?"

I startle, thumping my shoulder on the door loudly. And his voice is right next to me. At the side of me, in fact. What the hell? Is he hiding by the door of his office or something?

"C-crap," I mutter out with a hoarse laugh. "You scared me! I-I had no idea that you were right next to me!"

I think I hear the rustling sounds of his trousers, and his shoes bouncing off the floor as he moves around. Then, to my relief, his office illuminates with bright, harsh light. I find him standing by the lamp near his desk now. Finally. Seeing helps. Or... or not so much, in my case.

He stands there, staring right at me, dressed in his usual neat business shirt, trousers and tie, something glistening and burning in his eyes.

And just like that...

 _"I'm going to fuck you with my fangs now, Miss Steele." Great. Thanks a lot brain._

My legs and knees weaken a little, my cheeks flushing. Why does my brain have to do this to me now? Why betray me the instance I'm in the same room as him? The instance I am merely looking at him?

Abashed, I glance down at the paper sheet I'm holding. I realize my fingers are trembling. I hope he can't notice. "So, your schedule for today, Mr Grey," I get out, clearing my throat. I try to sound normal, professional even. It's a little hard though, knowing he's looking at me. And especially after we had gone out on Saturday. Definitely hard to knowing we'd kissed. "Um, you have a meeting in your o-office at 12.20 today." I just try to get it over with, reading everything out as quickly as possible to not embarrass myself even more. "And also you-" My fake confidence grows even less convincing when I catch the movement out of the corner of my eye as he starts pacing towards me. "You have a-"

"-I'm already aware," he says, cutting over me. I stop prattling, lifting my gaze to glance at him quickly. He's standing barely two steps away from me. "I checked my schedule and familiarized myself with it the instance I got in, Miss Steele."

"Oh. Okay then." Great, now where to go now? But fortunately for me, he helps me out.

"Taylor dropped you off all right?" His voice sounds breathless. Concerned, but mostly breathless for some reason.

"Um, yes, he did, Mr Grey. He dropped me off straight away on Saturday."

"And you enjoyed yourself?" I might be mistaken, but it sounds like he is trying to make certain I did enjoy myself when we went out. But hadn't I already made it obvious enough?

"I truly did. The show was... amazing," I gush, bracing myself before meeting his gaze again. I feel like my face is burning. "And dinner was great too. Thank you again." I have to glance down at the paper I'm holding again, his gaze becoming suddenly overwhelming. Especially after knowing what I did soon after in the shower at the thought of him... "And obviously, you were great too," I blab. "Y-your company was great, and your kiss..." Oh, God. And his kiss? Seriously, Ana!

"Yes, I enjoyed it myself, Miss Steele," he murmurs, his voice lower, huskier. He doesn't elaborate on which part he enjoyed, but I think I'm safe in assuming which one he enjoyed the most. That kiss. The kissing was really, really nice. "I apologize for having to cut it early, of course," he adds, regret tinging his tone. "I would have enjoyed spending a longer amount of time with you, but of course..." He trails off into a meaningful silence. Which fortunately gives me a reason to speak about it.

"A-are you okay?" I murmur, turning my head up to meet his gaze with concern. He raises his eyebrows at me. "You know, with... what happened? How I... I had to leave so abruptly?"

"I found a way to manage," he says in response shortly.

"How was your Sunday?" I ask, just to make small talk, I guess. Although I am genuinely curious to know what he does with his time.

"It was fine. Non-eventful. Sundays are a rest day for me."

"Rest day? As in you-"

"- I like to sleep all day Sundays and re-energize for the weekdays ahead of me, yes."

Hmm, I wouldn't mind sleeping in bed next to him all day on a Sunday. "Sounds... relaxing," I say with a smile. I make the error of glancing up at him again, my eyes dropping to his mouth. His lips are slightly parted. He has his tongue pinched beneath his teeth. My mind goes back there at the sight of his teeth.

 _"I'm going to fuck you with my fangs now, Miss Steele."_

"W-was it thirst?" I ask outright while trying to make my expression nothing else but simply curious. But my stupid traitor cheeks, I can feel the heat yet again. "Was that why you demanded I leave so abruptly the way you did? B-because you were hungry?"

"Usually I'm not so careless," he replies, a berating tone to his voice. "I should have prepared earlier but I hadn't... eaten in two days." His expression goes a little funny when he says 'eaten'. Like he knows it isn't the correct word for it himself. "The hunger... the thirst, sometimes it comes on without much warning. I'm sorry if I scared you."

"Oh, no, you didn't scare me," I assure him strongly. The next thing I say, it comes out unthinkingly, "I just want you to know that if you ever find yourself unprepared again, then I'm all too willing." A tense silence rings out in the air as my cheeks glow with heat again. Shit, what am I saying? "I mean, I wouldn't mind coming to your, um... assistance, Mr Grey." 'Coming' to his assistance indeed. My stomach clenches at the dirty yet utterly appealing thought.

"You- what?" Mr Grey breathes, and when I reluctantly bring myself to look at him again, I see he's taken aback. Both hands bunch into fists at his sides, his teeth gritted tight. Clearly he wasn't expecting that from me. Honestly, I wasn't expecting myself to say it so outright either.

"You... you have my consent," I whisper shakily, staring into his eyes. "W-whenever you need to or if you find yourself in that predicament ever again, then you have my-"

"- I don't think you properly understand what you are saying."

"But I do know what I'm saying, and I mean it, Mr Grey. Whenever you need."

A look overcomes his grey eyes- one I don't think I've seen before. A daunting, malicious almost look. "Stand over by the desk then, Miss Steele," he orders firmly, startling me. Oh. He... he wants to now? Now? "If I have your consent like you say I do, go stand by the desk." He jerks his chin to the desk opposite me, his breathing changing. He sounds winded. Excited, even.

But oh crap. Now?

"N-now?" I mutter unevenly. "You... you want it now, Mr Grey?" I sort of had expected him to take up the offer in a couple of days, or to give me some time to prepare myself, at the very least. But right now?

"Go over to the desk and sit on it, Miss Steele."

I swallow hard, glancing towards where his desk is. "I-in your recliner chair?"

"No, not in my chair, Miss Steele." A hard tone of exasperation overtakes him, surprising me. It's like he is irritated by me simply asking. "On the desk. Sit on it with your bottom."

Oh. I swallow again, glancing towards him. Even by merely looking at him, it's there for me to see. The change. His stance is less relaxed, more tight. His shoulders are more squared and angled, his breathing still labored. He looks almost unrecognizable, weirdly enough. While yes, of course, he is still my boss, but there's... an air there. A shift. His stomach even looks a little puffed out, straining through the button of his shirt. Like he's turned into something utterly dangerous, something predatory. An animal.

"S-S-Sit on it on my bottom?" My breath turns shallow itself as I force myself to move, striding slowly towards his desk.

I place the sheet of his schedule down on the desk before turning around, leaning against it with my hip. He stands there, watching me, his teeth still gritted, something dark and almost hungry in his eyes.

I feel suddenly like I've fallen into a cage. Into a cage where an uncontrollable, wild lion is kept, inches away from me. Staring at me, assessing my moves. Assessing which is the best moment to strike.

I reach behind me, pressing my palms into the desk on each side of me. Then I leap, jumping up, sitting on his desk as he said. I keep my gaze on nothing else but his, aware that my heart rate is racing from the apprehension, the slight fear yet excitement of what's to come. My bottom crushes something below it on his desk, paper crumpling noisily as I bring up a leg, crossing my ankle over the other. I hope I'm not sitting on any important paperwork he needs.

"Is this going to hurt me?" I ask, my voice showing my hesitance, my nerves.

"Yes."

"And m-make me feel good also, like you described?"

He gazes at me intently as he uncurls a fist, lifting up his hand to run it slowly through his tousled hair. "Yes."

My hands instinctively drift up to my neck, making sure all strands of hair are out of the way as he begins to stroll towards me. Mr Grey's jaw twitches. his eyes on nothing else but mine, his expression absorbed and focused yet... enticingly dangerous at the same time. As he reaches me, he stands directly near me for a moment, watching me, observing me as I hold my head completely still, chin raised a little, neck and throat bared to him. I wonder if he can see how much my body is trembling. I wonder if he can hear how loud my heart is probably beating right now.

"And you are sure, Anastasia?" he breathes, checking to be sure, I suppose. "You are absolutely sure you want this?"

I bite down on my lip, then nod.

"No uncertainty? No regrets?"

I shake my head, finding it difficult to find my voice. My head spins. With excitement, with nerves. With all the anticipation, I guess.

It happens before I even realize he's moved. A low, throaty moan, almost a growl, escapes from the base of his throat. And then all of a sudden, he's grabbing me. Both cool hands come beneath my legs, gripping onto my thighs and with seemingly no effort, he slides and pulls me forward so that I am perched on the very edge of his desk, right near the end of it.

I gasp, unable to help it, my hands automatically lifting up to grasp onto each of his shoulders tightly as he pushes himself between my legs so that I'm knees are gripping around his thighs, below his waist. Like I had noticed previously, beneath the fabric of his shirt, Mr Grey's skin feels all tight, all hard. I feel no body heat retaining off him at all.

"Do it," I hear my own voice cry out desperately. "Just do it, Mr Grey. Bite me."

My fingers curl, clawing, clinging to the fabric of his shirt around his shoulders as the very cold tip of his nose brushes against the crease of my neck, the side of his face burying into my throat. A gurgling, growling noise erupts from him- animal-like, pure danger- emulating through his skin to mine, vibrating, clattering. A mix of fear and anticipation sends my pulse racing again wildly, adrenaline making my skin burst into little goosebumps, making every hair follicle stand on edge.

And then it happens, not at all like he initially described it as.

I feel the tendons in his jaw stretch and move against my throat, and then his teeth... They sink in, rather easily, sliding in smoothly, like a knife going into moist butter.

"Ah!" I moan out at the flare of pain. "Shhh...it."

Various muscles deepest inside of me clench, my eyes stinging, closing tight. The pain of his teeth going in, the sharp sting of them, is agony but fleeting- like a needle piercing through a layer of skin. Then the pain slowly dissipates, until this glorious warmth builds, encasing me, wrapping around me. His wet tongue lashes against my throat, a pull-tug sensation making it throb as he sucks, vacuuming my blood into his mouth.

It's like an early heaven. My mouth falls open and my head falls back as distantly I hear myself, sounding from far, far away... moaning, crying out, humming in pleasure. Pure bursts of gold-white shatter beneath my eyelids, unexplained endorphins sending me into an ethereal state. I feel blanketed, blanketed and encased in all that is joyful, all that is good and pleasurable. A warm, soothing cup of tea after a stressful day. Melting, buttery chocolate gushing in my mouth. Possessed by nothing else but feeling, my body convulses, legs stiffening around him.

Then, sadly, barely seconds into feeling such pure unadulterated pleasure, it's... over.

Blinking against speckles of fading golden-stars, I gradually float back down to earth, back to the now.

Mr Grey's hands are grasping each side of my head, softly, tenderly, my forehead is resting against the collar of his shirt and the base of his throat, and somehow... already, he's no longer sucking, no longer feeding. When? How long has it been since he last stopped suckling up my blood and tonguing my throat? How long have I been drifting, floating, hovering for?

He's breathing heavily and I'm breathing heavily. A light dull sting and throb pulses hotly where he bit me.

"You okay?" Mr Grey's voice doesn't even sound like it usually does. It sounds like it had when he had warned me away on Saturday after kissing me; Guttural, pitches deeper, throaty and raspy. Like another person has taken him over, almost. An entirely different being.

It occurs to me a slow, drugged second later that I'm not even sitting with my bottom on his desk anymore. My backside is completely off it, my weight instead bared and completely on him, his hips against my hips, my arms around his neck, him completely holding me into his body. I'm swathed over him, draped around him while he holds my head in his hands, my forehead slick and pressed against the base of his throat and shirt collar. When had I moved? How long had he been holding me for?

And my underwear. My privates, I feel it throb brutally, painfully, my underwear warm and slimy. Probably an outcome from the orgasm, the intense loss of control.

"I..." I begin feebly. Even trying to speak, trying to use my voice, I feel too tired. Too sluggish and hazy. "I...can't..."'

"Sssh, it's okay," he murmurs, his hands loosening around my scalp. He tips my head back gently, hands and fingers cradling my face. I try to see his expression, try to look into his eyes, only I can't. I can't see, except for those wavy speckles of light that keep distorting my vision. I can't move. I can't do... anything. "The effects will dissipate soon. Just try to remain calm and... enjoy it."

I feel as though someone's slipped me a drug, a narcotic, something that takes away all feeling in my limbs, all pain, all anything. I seem to just want to be lazy. Lazy and close to him.

"You tasted so sweet." All I can make out, is his still harsh breathing, the appreciation and wonder in his tone. "So sweet and delicious, Anastasia."

I feel him, his slippery tongue. He must move his head, back to that spot again where he bit, licking away any last remnants of blood that has oozed out again from his bite. He thrusts his tongue up and down against my skin, and I feel a pang of sharp stinging again.

"Oh," I gasp out. He groans into my skin, tongue gliding over me for another time. "Ah!"

"I... I waited so long for you." His voice... too distant, too far away. Can't make any sense of it but my own tiredness. "What took you so long to find me?" Breathing ragged, I feel his forehead press against mine. "I'm not losing you again, do you understand me? Not ever..." His voice fades off into a silence, a ringing tingling noise in the distance. And then as if I'm being blinded, everything goes dark.

xxx

Hope this chapter and story in general is ok? Always love to k ow your thoughts.

is it boring? A bit silly? Answers will be revealed into their past connection soon. If there is anything you wish to happen feel free to let me know? X


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

When I slowly come to, I find myself lying on my back on something spongy and comfortable. I think it's Mr Grey's lather reclining chair. Something soft and incredibly warm is draped around me while my legs are tucked in towards my chest, but I can't be sure what that something is. It just feels sort of heavy, sort of like cloth. A blanket or something. He must have moved me over to his chair so that I could be more comfortable after the effects of his bite or something, because I know I couldn't have managed walking over to it myself.

It's a struggle to even simply open my eyes right now. My bones, all my limbs, they feel achy, sort of stretched and tender. But in a weirdly good way. I listen to the surroundings in his office carefully while keeping my eyes closed. I wonder if he's left me alone. But then I hear it; His office door opening gently, then what sounds like a pair of heels clicking softly on the ground. A woman.

"Here's the glass of water you-" It's Andrea. I've been here long enough now to easily recognize her voice. But then she suddenly stops, her voice trailing off into silence. I think I hear a gasp from where she is, probably near the doorway into his office. "Oh my God, Mr Grey," she mutters, her voice high and uneven with noticeable shock. "What... what have you done to Ana? When you said you needed a glass of water... I... I didn't expect for this to be the reason why?" A lilt of warning slips into her tone.

"I didn't do anything that Miss Steele didn't already consent to." Finally, I hear Mr Grey's voice. He sounds... close? Definitely closer to me compared to where Andrea must be. Has he been here in the room the whole time, in his office, watching over me as I recoup from what just happened when he bit me? The mere thought that he has... I feel heat rise to my cheeks.

"She-she consented to this?" The unease in Andrea's voice in unmistakable. "Are you sure that was a wise thing to do, Mr Grey? Consent or not, she could easily report this later on to the police? Things could go badly if she-"

"-She wouldn't," Mr Grey speaks over her, his voice firm and filled with conviction. "I _know_ she isn't like that, Andrea."

"You-you know?" There's a weird moment of silence that passes between them. "How can you possibly know, Mr Grey? How can you know that she wouldn't?" I suppose I can't blame Andrea for being worried. By the sounds of her voice, you can tell she truly fears any negative repercussions of his choice to feed from me. "She's only be here for less than a month. Not that I don't like Ana, of course, because I do, but it's dangerous for you to-"

"- I _know_ her, Andrea. I know we don't need to worry." Again, Mr Grey sounds so filled with conviction, with certainty.

"Mr Grey, please. You have to be realistic about this. You can't say that you possibly know her. Three... four weeks." Andrea's trying to be gentle, to rationalize with him. "That isn't knowing someone for that long."

There's another weird moment of silence passing between them. Then I hear gentle footsteps and something clinking on the wood of Mr Grey's desk. The water, I think?

"It's different with her, isn't it?" I hear Andrea ask curiously, breaking that silence after a moment. "She's different for you from all the others, isn't she? All the... the donors? Miss Williams? Miss Gore and Miss Mulligan?" How can I be different? What can she mean in saying that? But then she continues with a lowered voice, "You like her. She means something more to you, doesn't she? I can tell, in all the ways you look at her and in... all the ways you stare at her? Even now, even when I just came in here with the glass of water... you're just standing there, staring at her?"

My heart jolts with a little pang inside my chest at Andrea's comment. I try to keep my facial expression nothing but slack and emotionless as I breathe in deeply through my nose, pretending to still sleep. He's just standing there, staring at me? Watching over me as I sleep and regain my strength after all the sensations he shook me into after biting me?

"As I said, Andrea, I know her." There's a warmth, a soft longing in Mr Grey's tone that I have never heard from him before. "I know she can be trusted, because... I know her, perhaps more than anyone else has ever known her themselves."

Andrea's breath hitches sharply. "You think she's her, don't you? You think she's her?" I'm not quite sure who she is hinting to, until what he says next.

"I don't just think, Andrea. I know. I've searched for her for centuries, watching for her to come back to me. And now..she's returned to me." I've returned to him? He thinks I'm his fiancee, I realize. He actually thinks I'm her, his fiancee that died on the way to their wedding!

"She can't be her, she just can't be," Andrea disagrees strongly. "She died, remember? However... long ago it that it was, she died and it isn't possible for her to come back. People just don't come back from the dead, Mr Grey."

"Don't they?" A meaningful pause. "...And what about me, Andrea? I've returned, haven't I? I was by all means and definitions dead, but I returned from the grave. I've been searching... waiting for centuries for her to finally return to me." He sounds like a stubborn man trying to argue his point across on why he is right. "It can't be a coincidence, can it? I've been mascarading under the pretense of being this... thing, being CEO of my own business and then, of all places, she returns to Seattle, applies for a job at the very same place where I am?"

I don't know what to think on what I've just heard. But then suddenly it all seems to make some sort of sense. Him, on our date, when we had dinner... him describing his fiancee to me, how she had eyes the identical shade to mine, the same hair. He's mistaken me for his dead fiancee!

"It cannot simply be a coincidence, Andrea. She even... tastes like her, smells like her." What? I taste like her, smell like her? "Everything about her... her laugh, her smile. Her eyes and the way her hand feels. Everything- it's her. The only logical explanation I can come up with is that she's returned to me, at last."

"But how?"

Someone sighs heavily but I can't tell whether it's Mr Grey or Andrea doing it.

"What if there are no real answers as to how?" Mr Grey asks out loud, his voice gentle, distracted by his own musings into why, I suppose. "I've decided the how or the why isn't so important anymore, Andrea. But what is important, is not letting what happened repeat itself again. I can't let it happen again." His voice turns fiercely determined and unwavering. "She's returned to me- for whatever reason or why, it isn't important. All that matters to me is not losing her again."

 _Not losing me again? But I'm not really his to begin with, am I? Andrea's right. How is it possible? He has to be mistaken_.

"The first time I lost her, it very nearly killed me and destroyed whatever little sanity I had left. To lose her again... I can't do it. I won't."

"And what if she doesn't want you back? What if... if you're wrong?"

"I can't be wrong, and she has to want me back. It's how it's meant to be. She's returned to me, for me. This is our chance for a proper do-over, to rewrite the pain of the past." My blood feels cold at the chilling threat to his tone, the new edge there to it. He won't accept it any other way- it's all there, clearly to be hinted at, in his voice. "I know it will work out differently this time. I know, this time, that... that things will become what they were meant to be. I know it."

"Well, your meeting is in half an hours time." The awkwardness in Andrea's voice is clear as day. She obviously doesn't know how to react to his confession, or what to even say in response no less. That makes two of is. "You better figure out what you want to do with her, before then. She can't exactly stay asleep in your office during the meeting now, can she?"

 _Crap, his meeting._

"Leave it to me, Andrea. I'll figure out what to do."

"Okay then." I hear her heels clacking as she slowly walks to the door to his office. It opens, then shuts again softly. And then there's just... a ringing silence in the room. I think I can almost feel him staring at me, observing me as I pretend to sleep. But Andrea's right, I don't want to be in here when his meeting starts. Yet I don't think I'm ready to give up my act of sleeping just yet, out of fear of what I've just heard between them.

I know he's wrong and it cannot be possible. I'm Ana. I've only been here on Earth for barely twenty-something years. I'm not his dead fiancee returned to him, I can't be. It just isn't possible.

Deciding it's now or never, I shift slightly on the recliner, the leather making a noise beneath me. Then I force my eyes open, but I blink several times, feigning sleepiness. I see Mr Grey standing at the opposite end of his desk. Just as I somehow had already predicted, he has obviously been observing me.

"Oh, I... I'm sorry," I mumble, pretending to be embarrassed. I kick my legs off, forcing myself to sit upright a little. It occurs to me that it isn't a blanket that he had bothered to drape around me, but his long black overcoat. "I must have fallen asleep afterwards?" To my relief, my voice works with me, making the act sound more convincing. It's croaky from misuse.

"It happens," Mr Grey murmurs, and I feel my stomach clench a little as he moves slowly across his desk to reach me. He crouches down beside his chair, looking me over carefully. Now his looks, his little glances, they have a new meaning to them now. Now I think I understand things so much more clearly. "Are you feeling all right?" he asks with concern.

"I think so. A little, um... tired and overwhelmed, but fine." I cannot help how curt my tone immediately is. Then again, what is the right way to react after overhearing something like I just did? Am I meant to be happy? All I can seem to feel at the moment, is both a little uneasy and disturbed. "How long was I asleep for?"

"A little over an hour."

"An hour? Sorry." I was really supposed to be working anyway, not sleeping. I clear my throat roughly, "Um, I guess I should probably get out of your office, seeing as you are due for your meeting soon?"

He sighs loudly and reaches for something on his desk with his hand. It's the glass of water he must have asked Andrea to get for me. "Here, you probably should drink this." He hands it to me, and I try not to react when his fingers brush against mine.

And he's right, I do actually need a drink. I swallow down a few mouthfuls quickly, feeling parched. I try to ignore also the fact that he's still kneeling down near the chair, his grey eyes wide and watchful, staring into my face.

"Better?" he asks once I manage to consume the whole lot of the water in a few gulps.

"Heaps."

He visibly relaxes as he takes the now empty glass of water from my hand. He sits it back on his desk. "You might want to consider having something to eat. Did you pack your lunch today?"

"I did, yeah. I always do."

"Then I want you to go out and have your lunch break early. I don't want you feeling faint."

"Okay." I force a smile at him weakly. Seemingly relieved by my quick obedience to get something to eat, Mr Grey stands slowly from his crouched position while I throw his coat off of me. As I stand slowly from his recliner, I get a sudden little head rush, a little nausea. But it's nothing I can't deal with. "I'll go take my lunch break now," I mutter, finding I want to desperately leave his office for some alone time to think.

When I rush towards the door to leave his office, I don't bother looking back at him.

I tell Andrea I'm taking my lunch break now, then sit in the staff area, picking at the sandwich and yogurt cup I had brought in with me for lunch today. While I do feel hungry, I sort of can't bring myself to eat too much. Not after what I overheard, anyway.

I cannot get over it. He thinks I'm his fiancee, returned from the dead? And judging by what he said afterwards, how determined his voice had sounded, he appears desperate to not let me slip away. I have no idea what to think about that. Of course, I know I like Mr Grey. I had enjoyed kissing him. I think he's attractive and I am interested in him... more than in any sort of platonic way. I do feel drawn to him in some uncontrollable deep ways and him revealing to me what he was couldn't have stopped that.

But for him to actually think I am his fiancee returned from the dead?

xx

sorry for the shorter chapter. Will add a longer one in a couple of days :) would love to know your thoughts as always. A lot of you worked it out already well done! I'm obsessed with TV show DRacula where Mina is his wife reincarnated so that was partly the idea, as well as my obsession with vampires (and Ana and Christian). Hope it's ok, I'll update another chapter in a day or two-a far longer one where Ana reveals she overheard them. Liking or hating? Hoping it isn't horrible argh


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